A Road Less Travelled

 One would think that one very large bookshelf would be enough for any young single female. That is, of course, unless that female happens to be of the Mutton line. Take, for example, my bookshelf. (No, don’t actually take it–I need it rather badly.) Not only are all six four-foot shelves jammed with books, but the top of the bookshelf has books most of the way across (saving room only for my stack of hats), and there are piles of of books stacked in the space between the top of the books and next shelf up. I purposely arrange my books (within genre and author guidelines, of course) so as to have the maximum number of paperbacks in row, to leave a nice flat surface for stacking.

Now, having already been informed that this is the bookshelf of one in the Mutton line, one would of course not assume that this comprises the extent of my book collection. No, after the maximum number of books have been crammed into my bookshelf the overflow takes up my closet shelf, a shelf above my desk and half of the desktop itself, and the back of my dresser. This is not counting the small (three shelf) bookshelf jammed full of children’s books which resides under my loft bed, the row of picture books taking up two-thirds of the wall along the floor under my bed, the crate full of craft books in my closet, or the Janette Oke books packed away in my closet. (Don’t mock me–I know they’re not great literature, but they were fun back when I read them.)

Having filled every available nook and cranny with books, there’s just one problem: I haven’t stopped buying books. With twenty-five and fifty cent books in the library book sale room, I’m not even spending all of my book budget, but I’m still about to start drowning in books.  I’ve taken half of my cookbook collection and stacked it on the floor to make something resembling an end table. Yesterday I made another next it with my Star Trek books. This cleared a little stacking space on the shelf, but the shelves themselves are still full.

If I go missing for a few weeks, someone should check under the sea of books in my room. I’ll probably be buried somewhere in there desperately trying to reach my laptop so I can order just one more book. Sigh. I supposed something really does have to give. I just hope it’s not the floor of my room collapsing under the weight of all my books…