Death of the Browserlust

I’ve always loved bookstores. I’ve always loved the simple act of being in bookstores, browsing the shelves, smelling paper and ink and often coffee. It is my zen place. Walking through a good bookstore, surrounded by thousands of ideas and dreams made reality, it makes me feel like anything is possible. Naturally, being so enamored of bookstores, I have given into their temptation regularly for years. Especially since I became a self-sufficient adult, I have indulged myself heavily with new books over the last three years and enjoyed every minute of it. However, as with a lot of things lately, my perspective is changing.

I think my browserlust has died a quiet little death. It’s been in recent months, since I’ve been pregnant and my husband works third shift, that whenever I have the opportunity to go to the bookstore and just browse, I would just as soon pass it up. As my TBR pile has gotten larger and larger, I’ve begun to think that I would rather focus my purchases on authors I already know I love, including two extensive series that I’ve lost touch with over the years but absolutely adore. The TBR pile monstrosity isn’t the only reason I think my browserlust has died either.

The house we bought last year is more than decently sized, but when you have seven bookshelves of various sizes, all of which are filled to the brim, it eventually becomes a question of where to put them, and how to store books you purchase in the future. We have three bedrooms, one of them is our master and the other is slowly being morphed into a baby room. That leaves a single room left to store bookshelves filled with books, movies, and geek paraphernalia. As of now, there is only one bookshelf in that room, but our living room currently holds four bookshelves. No, wait, five. We actually have nine bookshelves altogether, the last two narrow and short, and I cleaned one of them off to put in the baby’s room to start its book collection on.

I’ve been having conversations and debates with myself lately about which books deserve to be kept, and how materialism plays a part in our day to day lives. I like having stuff, but with a baby on the way and plans to not stop at just one child, I am beginning to wonder where do we draw the line. Where do I draw the line of how much stuff I keep? Our kids will want to have their own stuff as well, and they will need somewhere to put it. I want them to have stuff.

I have no objection to materialism, but I’m beginning to think the idea of moderation applies here as well, especially when you’re going to start a family.

This is probably the main factor in my sudden lack of browserlust. The only thing that really makes me sad about it is right now, a trip to Barnes & Noble doesn’t have the same zen feel to it that it did before I got pregnant. When I’m constantly thinking about our finances and how to best be prepared for this baby and all the worries that come with those two things, I miss that feeling. I may find it again, but it may or may not be in the bookstore. It is kind of funny though that I have no desire to go hang out in the bookstore right now, but I’ve been on a strange reading kick here lately. I have already read eight books this ear, which is a lot for me in recent years.

I wonder if the two have any real correlation…

Until next time, Kelswitch over and out.

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