I had a gift card burning a hole in my pocket today, so I scurried off to my local strip mall to spend it as quickly as possible. Initially, I was determined to get the new Offspring. I don't know what it is about "Hit That" that I love so much, but I want to play that song all day, every day. I'm hoping this urge will go away once I can actually play it so much that I learn to hate it.
Once I got to the Barnes and Noble, however, I couldn't do it. Their CD prices are just ridiculous; I couldn't, in good conscience, pay that much for a CD. I've been wanting the new Jonathan Lethem ever since I finished Motherless Brooklyn, but I typically don't buy books in hardcover. It's not that I'm cheap, I'm just poor.
So I argued with myself in the B&N for a good 15 minutes about whether I should get two paperbacks or the damn CD and a paperback for the price of one hardcover. I was having hardback guilt. I don't know where I got it from or when I picked it up, but I have some weird hang-up about the whole thing. I forced myself to buy it. It was a gift! It was free money! It's fabulous. God, I'd forgotten how wonderful hardbacks are. I just want to touch it all the time.
If you'll excuse me, I need some private time with my book now.
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