Book Addict

I go to the bookstore quite often. I like going there, but it's also a bit dangerous for me. You see, I'm a book addict, it's is nearly impossible for me to leave the bookstore without spending $50 at the drop of the hat. I'll go there with the best intentions too. I walk in looking for something in particular and the next thing I know I'm asking for a dolly. It's just...well...all those books just looking for a home, I kind of feel bad for them. It's like a pet store really. And the books, they've got my number. They see me coming in and they practically jump off the shelf into my hands! Then comes the point when I have to decide which ones to buy and which ones to put back. I shuffle back and forth between them, reading their dust jackets, calculating how many days I'll have to eat Raman noodles to afford that expensive political science reference book. Oh no, there's a hardcover edition of the Oddesy on sale! The horror!! I've already made several unsuccessful attempts to make it to the cashier. I've wandered through every section at least three times and the staff is starting to eye me suspiciously. I'm certain I look like a lunatic, especially with all of the talking and arguing with myself. Finally, I'm saved by my buyer's remorse. I put back that tome on "existential psychotherapy" and cling that much more tightly to the Camus.