Hello, my name is K, and I'm a bookaholic. At last count, I have four unread library books sitting by my desk, eight partially-read books stashed in the bedroom or living room and thirty COMPLETELY UNREAD books stuffed in various corners of our tiny apartment. Did you hear me? THIRTY!!!
And yet, when hubby dearest called to say he would be getting home later than originally thought, I contemplated running out and buying yet another new book... it's an addiction, and I'm not sure I can stop.
But admitting you have a problem is the first step, right? Okay, good, then I've made the first step.
Except, I'm not sure it's really a problem. I mean, it's not too expensive, as habits go. It doesn't hurt anyone else (except maybe for F, since I spend less time with him when I'm immersed in a good book). And, my writing teacher said herself last night that one of the best ways to become a better writer is to read more.
So where does that leave me now?
-k
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