I Have Nothing to Read

I applied a green sea-green mineral face mask, and while waiting for it to set, harden, tighten, exfoliate and beautify, I dusted my bookshelf.

My pride and joy.

The dusting process really only took me less than a minute because, embarrassingly, there is barely any shelf space left TO dust.

I have too many books. And I really shouldn’t say that because, for a girl like me, one cannot have too many books. And still yet have nothing to read.

I sometimes wish I could be like one of those girls who opens her closet and after perusing the hangers upon hangers and drawers upon drawer of tops, pants, dresses and skirts waiting to be shown-off to the world, moans about nothing to wear.

But I’m not.

Because for a variety of reasons like financial belt-tightening (all my money goes towards kids and day-to-day living), and having a job that doesn’t require multiple power suits (casual business attire suffices), I just have the basics. Pants, a few tops, a dress or skirt or two for just-in-case moments, are all I need. I sometimes lovingly admire the outfits on display in storefront windows, and longingly eye the girls prancing down the street in boots, skirts and tops perfectly matching. But really, I have a life that consumes my attention from dressing to the nines on a daily basis. Not that there is anything wrong with having daily thoughts about what to wear the next day, but I have other things to worry about, like what to read next.

So when I hear the girls moaning ‘I have nothing to wear,’ I giggle.

Because I know when I set foot in a bookstore, I have been driven there by one need and one need only. I have nothing to read.

But my bookshelves lacking in exposed shelf space that have seemingly forced me to enter the world I love most tell the truth.

I have books upon books excitedly picked out and brought home in packages. I have books from second-hand bookstores, thrift stores, and books (excitedly) won in contests. Books passed on to me from friends - “You SO have to read this!” - wait to be read and reviewed to the previous owner. I have books in every nook and cranny; shelves and floor space overflow.

Yet when I finish one, and I go to my shelf to pick out my next indulgence – and sometimes I might have one I truly AM dying to get to once I finish the one at hand – I peruse the shelves and realize I have nothing to read.

It’s because I can never have enough. It’s because I want whatever is the newest on the market. It’s because something else has come along before I have had a chance to read the previously acquired next-best-thing.

It’s because I’m addicted.

It’s not to say that what I have on my waiting-to-be-read shelf is not good enough, or that I think my newest biblio-acquirement is better than another. I love them all and look forward to reading them all. Soon.

But I have nothing to read.

And really, when you think about it, maybe if I just saved my pennies spent on books and put those pennies towards a new outfit, I would have something to wear and therefore look a little more...together. But then, if I did that, I would have nothing to read.

Oh dear.

Where are my priorities?

I guess because deep down I know fashions come and go, but really, despite trends and fads in books, I know deep down a good book never goes out of style.

I have some books I have read over and over. Books from 10, 15, 20 years ago. Some classics, penned well before I was born, I keep going back to. Some books are only a year old and out of love and devotion to the story and the writing have made it to my keeper shelf. And despite having brand new, ink-still-fresh books waiting to be read in my bookcase, I sometimes pull out last years’ keeper shelf addition and get reading.

“I have nothing to wear” the fashionistas moan while standing in front of their closets full of clothes, some garments with price tags still attached.

“I have nothing to read” is my mantra as I attempt to dust a bookshelf with no shelf to dust, while planning my next bookstore visit.

I know I am nuts, but I gotta run - I have to a face mask to wash off. Maybe I can make up for lack of fashion with beautiful skin. I gotta look beautiful for the bookstore, ya know.
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