in which our narrator confesses to predictability

[heresluck]

Today I went downtown with $30.00, intending to buy wool socks. Instead I ended up with four books of poetry.

It occurs to me that this is sort of the story of my life in miniature.

Comments

[jackiekjono]

Some friends of mine ahd so many books in their house that they served as a sort of insulation. They will at least help keep you warm.

Re:

[elke_tanzer]

*pictures my own apartment* Hey, yeah...

[matociquala]

"If I get a little money, I buy books, and if any is left, I buy food and clothes."

-Erasmus.

[heresluck]

I was in fact thinking of that quote and chuckling about it as I walked to the bus after squandering otherwise investing my sock money.

[coffeeandink]

which books?

[heresluck]

I should have known you'd ask. *g*

Eavan Boland, Against Love Poetry
Tenaya Darlington, Madame Deluxe
Cate Marvin, World's Tallest Disaster
Sharon Olds, The Unswept Room

Re:

[coffeeandink]

Sometimes I think you and renenet leave the titles out just to see how long it will take me to ask for them.

Re:

[wordweaverlynn]

If you hadn't, I would have.

[renenet]

That's a good trade-off. You can read poetry while you launder your existing stock of wool socks more frequently. Brain and feet covered.

(one true chair seems like as good a place as any to read poetry)

[stakebait]

That's a good life. And a good story.

Re:

[heresluck]

Yep. I was thinking the other day that I have pretty much exactly the life I longed for (and didn't think was possible) fifteen years ago. Complete with more unread books in the house than I could read in a year. A good life indeed.