Although, of course, I lead a rich, full life in which books are only part of a whole ensemble of richness and fullness, and although I worry just fine about those other aspects of my life (on an as-needed basis), it is a (sad) fact that thinking about books can keep me from falling asleep.
Last night I had a full blown case of Reason 4, and a mild case of a fairly new worry, Reason 27.
Reason 4: I am organizing a library book sale virtually single handed and God help me in a moment of foolish optimism, exactly the same foolish optimism that strikes me every time, I promised that I would have 3,000 books. I don't. The angry mob of friends night previewers (all 7 of them--we are a small library) will pitchfork me.
Result: A desperate effort to amass at least 200 books from my own house, to fill in the gaps.
However, this mad scrounging of books did do something to alleviate Worry Number 27--that the house is going to collapse from the weight of all the books in it. This is not an entirely unfounded worry. Here is what we found when we took the downstairs bathtub out, and how many more support elements, I ask, are similarly chewed? There are over a thousand books on the second floor of our house....