It's Called an Addiction

Alright, so we went for coffee this morning at Starbucks, then to Chapters (like we always do on Sunday). Usually, I pick up a couple of magazines, go home, pour myself and bath and snuggle up for a good read. But today, not one good magazine was for sale that I hadn't already read, which of course meant that I was in Chapters (which I can never leave empty handed) with nothing to buy but books. Suddenly, I felt all nervous and twichy, would Mark kill me if I bought another book? Having just remarked to me that the book tower I had been building with books ' I just HAVE to read' in our bedroom was begining to look like a very unstable jenga construct, I snapped back that I was busy (I also blame you Becky and your damn recommendation to read that #@%#%&#$ book Myst of Avalon, that never seems to end!) and I would get through the pile when I got through it. Now I was standing in Chapters magazine-less and sweating. In the span of 15 mintues I had manged to find 4 books to buy! What's a strong independent girl supposed to do? Go looking for her husband to save her from herself. He took one look at the pile of books I had and said I could have 1! Well the indignity! I can make my own decisions I told him, to which he rolled his eyes, and I hastly put down three of the books I had, breathed a sigh of relief inwardly and strode to the till. Thank god, for cheap husbands!