Of books and men…okay, mostly books.

I am pretty clueless when it comes to all things romance. The longest of my relationships could probably be counted in weeks.  And, well, I can pretty much sum up the tenor of those relationships in one word – dysfunctional. Yeah, no surprise there. Oh wait, no! My bad. There actually has been one love affair in my adult life that I have managed to sustain for quite some time. My love affair with books. Unlike my past relationships, this one has been going on for years. But like all of them, this one is just as filled with dysfunction.

Now, every relationship comes with some kind of baggage. In my case, it is the stacks of  books I have scattered around my home that I have yet to read. Physical manifestations of  failed relationships on display. I pass by them every day and, perhaps in denial, I  ignore the failure of follow through on my part that they  have come to symbolize.

Some books attracted me with their beautiful covers. Others with their price tag. Many I acquired because I thought society expected me to read them. Oprah Winfrey’s book club is probably responsible for many of those titles. Thanks a lot Oprah. And many appear to be strictly for show. Perhaps a few I secretly love or want to read but never really wanted my friends and family to know. Yeah, books are a lot like men. And instead of stopping and appreciating all the books I have at home, I continue to search for more books, expecting them to satisfy some inner need. All left unread.

So in my quest to simplify my life and elevate its quality, I will finally do something about all the piles of “I have to get around to reading them” books in my home. So I wandered around my home, grabbing the books I have stashed in the open and the ones stashed behind closed doors. I  stacked all of them along with many of the CDs I have acquired, for pretty much the same reasons, on a single book-case. And I will work my way through them, one by one, and figure out what I think of them. Not what I think I am supposed to think of them. Not what I think they make me look like, sitting on my shelves. And I will share my thoughts with you here.

I am sure I won’t feel much, one way or the other, for many of the books. Some may drive me crazy and leave me clueless and dumbfounded. Others will have me rolling over with laughter. Several will certainly challenge me. And if I am lucky, perhaps one will change my life. I wonder if this will work with men too? Hmm.

3 thoughts on “Of books and men…okay, mostly books.

Add yours

  1. If only there were some sort of man “library”…you could check out one appropriate for your mood or purpose and return him when you were finished…

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