The Problem With Books

I've been reading, although once again, life has a way of intruding its ugly little head into my valued reading time. But I've actually finished a couple of books since my last posting, both for review for the Historical Novel Society:  The Mighty Miss Malone by Christopher Paul Curtis and Echoes of Titanic by Mindy Starnes Clark and John Campbell Clark. So while you won't see those reviews here on this site for a while, it's not as though I've been spinning my wheels in regards to books. It's just that, for every book I do manage to finish, at least two more somehow find their way into my house. 


The other night, youngest dear daughter and I were on our way to a concert by the oldest dear daughter when we realized we were going to be more than 30 minutes early for the meet up. We were passing a Barnes and Noble...so I looked at her and said, "Ten minute B&N run?" She didn't even have to think about it. Within the allotted ten minutes, we were checking out, each with two new books in hand. Neither of us *needed* a thing, yet we were unable to resist the pull. 


I'm wondering if those of you out there understand how devious books can be...calling out to you when you've got ten thousand other things to be doing, stealing time that *should* be devoted to actual money making pursuits, hindering you from those projects you've been needing to do for quite a while? Not sure when I discovered this evil side of books, but as I gaze at the mountain beside my bed, I'm fairly certain I'm a victim with no means of a cure.


Not that there's anything wrong with that.


~taminator40