addiction · apps · audio books · books · ebooks · fanfiction · hoarders · Internet · reading

It’s Not Hoarding if They’re eBooks, Right?

hoardingbooks

If Hoarders ever decides to do a show on people who have too many books, they’d over look me, because, really, my library of “real” books isn’t that big. Comparatively speaking, that is. Not nearly big enough to land me a spot on a show like that. My ebook library, on the other hand, is getting out of control.

I’m fairly sure that I have at least 150 unread books on my Kindle app. Then there are the ones on Aldiko, Google Books, Moon+Reader, and  OverDrive. We won’t even mention the dozens of fanfiction books/stories lurking about my tablet, or the audiobook waiting to be listened to. And I’m not counting the things I HAVE read. 
Except for those things I’ve read before in a paper version, all of these are new to me. I’m addicted to free book sites, and some days, spend more time searching out free things to download than I do reading. It’s distressing. unable

 

Now, this is not to say I don’t read at all, because we all know that isn’t true. I’m halfway through an odd book called Ketchup Clouds by Annabel Pitcher.

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It’s a YA novel about a teen girl writing to a man on death row, and confessing all her dark secrets to him. Twisted. Just my style.

 

 

 

books · crap · crowded · epiphany · finances · hoarders · home · moving · rummage sale · selfish · Steven · stuff · tears · tiny flat · tools · understanding

This Isn’t a Home, It’s A Rummage Sale!

In the last month my entire life has shifted, not just physically, but in a rather spooky spiritual sense. Some background: it’s been a very rough year for us, as the gods of finances seem to be conspiring against us. Steven lost his job, and my itsy-bitsy monthly disability stipend just barely covers the rent. We decided to move to a smaller apartment in the same building in order to have enough to cover utilities, too.

Over Thanksgiving weekend, and a few days after, we moved the contents of our two-bedroom flat into a one-bedroom down the hall. a few things went into storage at my parents place, and more will go there eventually, I hope. More things must go. This place is tiny, and every bit of space is taken up with stuff–his desks & computer stuff, the amazing television & the sofa Dad gave us, my bookshelves & books, his tools, and boxes of stuff neither of us has been wiling to sort through or part with yet.

As we moved, I discovered three drawers full of my clothes that I’d forgotten about in the dresser I couldn’t get to in the closet. Now these are piled in the bedroom, waiting to be sorted. I must sort, because until I do, I cannot get to the other clothes! I was so angry at Steven when we moved, simply because I stood in the center of all this stuff, feeling like one of those people on “Hoarders.” All I could see were these endless stacks of crap, and I would start to cry & whine. Scared that I’d get crushed under a pile of old magazines & Philips head screwdrivers, I was tearful & not very nice to him. Looking back, I was being incredibly selfish, especially since he did 80% of the work for our move, including moving full bookshelves all by himself !

Fortunately, he is not only eternally understanding, he didn’t like the mess, either. After a day of rest, he began putting up shelves, and finding places for things, just so I’d be happy. We’re slowly settling in, and sorting out. I have to remind myself that it doesn’t matter where we are, as long as were together; I also have to remind him of that, since he’s not real thrilled with many things right now.

The whole purpose of this move was to save money, and that isn’t going to happen. Yes, our landlord screwed us with extra fees and took all but three dollars of our damage deposit! So even though I’m happy here in our rummage sale home, I’m pretty ticked off. And crowded. But happy. And home. Oh, and as for my big spiritual epiphany, there wasn’t one. But it sure got ya reading, didn’t it?