The Fibrochondriac

I love books. I love to read. I can remember as a preteen, my (now ex? I guess) step-cousin gave me all of her old books from when she was a teenager. I loved those books. They were like Nancy Drew books only they were just stories of growing up. I wish I knew what I did with those books. I just remember I’d hide under my bed to read them so my mom wouldn’t bust me and make me go do chores.

I remember always reading in the car while we were on “family trips”. I have two younger (six and eight years younger…I think. It doesn’t make any difference now, but back then we were worlds apart) sisters that I didn’t want to talk to, had nothing in common with, so I read. My mom would get so aggravated at me. “You’ll never find your way around if you don’t get your head out of that book” that was pretty common. I remember she tossed one out of the car once. Oops. More fodder for a shrink, I guess.

But anyhow as the years go on, I keep amassing books. I do buy fiction but I don’t generally keep those. I usually end up swapping those out on Paper Back Swap for new fiction.

I’ll only keep fiction that means something to me. Like ”The Art of Racing in the Rain”

Mostly I hang onto books that tell me something. I have two shelves of cook books (not that I cook much…) a shelf for fibromyalgia, a shelf and a half on writing…see? Stuff is starting to get jammed in all over the place…

I’ve collected so many books that finding places to put them is getting interesting. I have a pile next to my bed, one by the chair in the living room, four bookcases full…all this in one very small apartment.

And since the fibromyalgia kicked in, I’ve found it hard to read a book for any length of time. They’re too heavy to hold, especially when I’m laying down. And as my eyes get older the print just keeps getting smaller. I’ve got trifocals for crying out loud. But still, reading small print is hard on my eyes.

Today when John came home he had a present for me. My birthday isn’t for a couple of days, but he’s like a kid at Christmas, he LOVES presents. Giving, receiving…doesn’t matter. I love this guy.

And I love my new Kindle!

I was amazed at how light weight it is. John got me a cover for it, so it feels a little more like a book…about a ten page book. Cool, huh? And even better, I can adjust the text so I no longer have to squint to read the print! And it’s amazingly readable. I was worried that I couldn’t bookmark it or highlight things (this is why I never get rid of books. I’m forever going back to something I read previously) but that’s not going to be a problem. I’m just giddy over this. I’m sure I’ll have more to say after I play with it more!