I have a love-hate relationship with libraries. I love them, because they are so full of such a wide variety of books that are so full of the most interesting things, and I hate them, because they depress me, because they always remind me of all the information and knowledge that is out there that I will never know --- that I *can* never know. (Bookstores have a similar effect on me, but libraries are worse, because in libraries I can read all those books for *free*! (Relatively speaking.) There's no cost-benefit, guilt-flavoured argument to overcome.) When, oh when, will I have the time to read all that I want to read, to learn all that I want to learn? The printed word is my "Ooh, shiny!" --- if there's writing on it, I have to read it, and if there's the remotest chance that I may enjoy reading it or need to read/refer to it again, I will hoard it. My own bookshelves at home are full of books that I have picked up over the years (mostly for free or at bargain prices) but which I haven't yet read. To say nothing of the steadily growing stacks of newspapers and magazines. I can't wait to retire, and finally have time to read them all!
PS: Okay, fine, I don't really hate libraries. They are wonderful entities, and not at all deserving of such intense negative regard. Rather, it's the way they make me feel that I hate.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
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