Why Do I Do This To Myself?

Well, here, in all it’s raging glory, is The Stack.

I do this to myself every year around the holidays. Do all anxious readers do this to themselves? I can’t help it. Collector mentality probably plays into this sickness of mine. I just like seeing them stacked up. I lie to myself, I think, and tell myself it’s motivating.

It’s fun to share, though. “What’s on your nightstand?” we ask each other. “What’s on your soul-crushing pile of despair?” you might as well ask me. But these slices of our minds present an easy way to quickly share something important with each other. When I first met my wife I had to lend her my favourite, primary books. I mean, they were me.

A brief discussion of the books here, along with the whys and hows, will follow in a later post. For now: marvel at my stupidity and self-hate.

3 thoughts on “Why Do I Do This To Myself?

  1. oooh… awhhh… *sigh* i have no clue how you feel. 😉 i wish i was a reader. sadly i am only a looker of pretty pictures. 🙁 alas, you make me jealous, you make me long for something i have only dreamt about, you you you… you like my sasquatches!! you really like my sasquatches!!! 🙂 exclamations are nice. read away you reading machine!! read away… mmmmm… pictures… mmmmm… pretty…

  2. Greg, keep on believing in the skunk ape. Jane Goodall does. I’ve drawn a sasqsketch myself for my son to colour. Sasquatch!

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