Book Therapy.

It's official, sweet muffins...

I have plunged into the dark abysmal waters of withdrawal. (Did I spell that right?)

You see, I am used to buying mountains of books on a weekly basis, oft' to the chagrin of my friends and parents. But it's been over a MONTH and I have only purchased four books. FOUR! I've begun experiencing severe signs of anxiety and bouts of depression whenever I look at Barnes & Noble. I believe that, over the past few years, books have become a sort of drug for me, something to simply drown out the world in and hey, when it's finished and I've turned the last page, what do I do? Just go out and buy more and revel in the glory of my large quantity of paper-and-ink drugs.

But, that's all over now.

FOUR BOOKS!

Really, I think that's an all time low for me. It's sad. Excuse me while I wallow in my misery.

And I know I'm being bratty and totally selfish because I still have about 50+ books that I have on my shelf to read, but that's what a drug does to you. Makes you.... not you. And while I know some of my friends would be in a never-ending state of bliss if they owned my books, I just don't seem to be happy.

I want new.

But, I guess I'll just read what I have and suffer through this. There is nothing else I can do, is there? No, didn't think so.

Always yours,

Lolli

(NOTE: This post is purely sarcasm. Well, maybe not sarcasm, but I'm not sincere when I say all this stuff. It's just a joke. Please don't think I'm ungrateful for what I do have. I am extremely content with my books. It's just that sometimes I feel a slight withdrawal. I'm exaggerating a great deal.)