I have a problem. I can’t stop buying books. But that’s not the whole problem; the whole problem is that lately I have been buying or borrowing them faster than I can read them. I have bookmarks in no less than seven (SEVEN!) books right now. I’ve run out of proper bookmarks and have resorted to tearing off scraps of paper from notes, Google Maps directions and the phone number of a boy I really don’t want to call back. And last weekend I bought two more books. My car drove itself to Changing Hands Bookstore. I couldn’t stop it—I was just going to look!—but then I flipped open the back cover of a used hardback book, and I fell in love with Jonathan Safran Foer. I bought a book because of the author’s picture; I have stooped to a new low of patheticness. New, for your viewing pleasure:
But this book! This book is amazing. It may just pull me from my non-committal rut.
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