Okay. So if I move my bed so it's flush against the wall, get rid of the nightstand, push the armoire-turned-bookshelf about six inches to the right, and take down the Phantom of the Opera poster on the wall (which I've been meaning to do anyway), I *think* I can fit one more bookshelf in here. By god, I will do it.
Looking at
Neil Gaiman's oh-
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I guess there are worse addictions to have than reading books, at least. I feel like a drug addict on payday, wondering how much of a fix I can get for $40 or something. Haha. I'm lame.
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I WANT THOSE BOOKSHELVES SO FUCKING MUCH OMG.
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OH MY GOD, ME TOO. THIS IS ANOTHER POINT THAT WE ARE ALLOWED TO AGREE ON, BECAUSE THE AWESOMENESS IS OVERWHELMING.
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Their love, it cannot be denied.
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