Who Am I?
My hair’s a mess and I’m still in my robe at 4:30 in the afternoon. I have dark circles under my eyes and around my arm pits. I’m surrounded by a guilty mountain of discarded candy wrappers and a pill-inducing Mount Everest pile of …
I’m a book-aholic.
Lest you think my affliction is limited to the luscious inky smell of the print version of the seductive
I have two kindles, an iPad, an iPad mini and a Nook reader. I’m seriously considering buying a KOBO reader, but I would need to stop reading long enough to
get my credit card, type in all that delivery information an order the thing.
Disclosed book on table at library
It’s a serious affliction.
And I love it.
Books are like my air. I breathe to read—wait—no—that’s not right. I live to read and I read to breathe. No. That’s not right either…
You get the picture. It’s in a book.
I’m seriously crazy—about books.
The thing is—no one takes it seriously. I hide it.
If someone’s comes over, I’ll dress. Comb my hair. Hide my book in my blouse.
If I go out, I read on my phone. Pretend I’m texting. I wear a hat and a long coat with deep book-filled pockets. It gets hot in the summer, but whatever. I keep my secret.
No one knows I chain read.
My basement is filled with old books and I built an addition to the garage out back to store https://www.viagrasansordonnancefr.com/viagra-prix/ more. I’m running out of GBs on my hard drive and I’ve taken to the cloud where I have a commercial storage package.
If Amazon had a VIP high roller club, I’d be a platinum member.
Amazon knows my name.
Who are you?
I want to know what book you’re reading. Tell me. There could be a prize in it for you…