|Books on desk|
Over the past two weeks I've pulled my boxes of books out of the closets while on a cleaning and organizing mission to put them out where I can get at them. In these two photos, except for my collection of old journals (what the hell am I ever going to do with those? a big bonfire one day) that are in another piece of furniture in the bedroom, these are all the books I own.
Scott insists I have way too many books, but he doesn't know his a__ from a hole in the— I mean, he apparently doesn't know anyone who really has a lot of books. This is nothing, considering the top shelf is all cookbooks, the second shelf is half-filled with empty notebooks, and the third, fourth and bottom shelves hold telephone directories, important papers and photo albums.
And, I rarely buy books. And I only keep books I will read again or dip into from time to time. I'm a serious library patron.
I say, Scott doesn't know how lucky he is.
He complains about my shoes too, because I have more than one or two pairs, unlike himself. Compared to most women, I don't own many shoes. He needs to go look into some other closets!
Yes indeedy, he is a lucky man to live with a woman who has hardly any books or shoes. He just doesn't know it.