They (whoever the Hell they are) say that the first step is to admit that you have a problem. Well I'll grab a set, man up and say "I'm Louie and I have a problem."
I stand before you naked (well in the emotional sense) and admit that I need a book.
I miss the new book smell when you crack the spine, and the giddy thrill knowing that I'm the *first*. I will respect you in the morning and I will not use you. Sure I'll pass you on but only in the nicest sense.
The long weekend ,coupled with my cold and I'm totally surrounded by nothing to read. This NEVER happens to me. I'll admit I'm an addict, I'll be reading one and I'll have two or three on the bookshelf and be looking for my next one. I live to check my status on VIRL, "Have I moved up a slot?" "Will the bitch re-new?" aarrgghh
I can go without booze, smokes, food, total joy in my being (from Booker Todd) and sweet disdain from the cats, but not without a book. I eat with a book, I watch T.V. with a book, I potty with a book, I go to bed with a book, I'd even drive with a book if I could. I bring a book to the Dr's, any place where I might have to wait for a minute or two.
I read in the yard, in the living room , in the bedroom, in the bathroom, in the car, even in the kitchen. Now I'm bereft. NO FRIGGING BOOK TO READ!!! Perhaps you don't understand the implications of this, but suffice it to say, I may go mad......