“When I get a little money, I buy books; and if any is left, I buy food and clothes.” ~ Desiderius Erasmus

I was sent to Barnes & Noble by my boss last night. I had to buy a gift certificate and card for our student worker who is leaving us today. I was chosen because I live closest to the only Barnes & Noble in town (even though I’m still a ways from it). I think, too, that they chose me because I’ve *always* got my nose stuck in a book.

Now, this was purely evil on their part and they (my co-workers and boss) probably didn’t even realize how evil they were being. I mean, really…would you send a bank robber into open vault to get a money bag for you? Of course not.

Do you send a book addict to Barnes & Noble to buy a gift?

I guess, in this case, you do.

I can’t just walk into a bookstore, buy a card and gift certificate, and leave. It’s not possible. All of those shiny, glossy covers call to me. I love roaming around the bargain book tables and seeing if there is anything I can’t live without (there always is, of course). I am drawn by the smell of books, the rippling of pages, the heftiness of weight. I feel such satisfaction walking out of a bookstore with a few books under my arm.

Then I get home and realize how much I spent.

Was I supposed to buy groceries or pay rent with this paycheck? Oh, dear…