GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #1006: AN INSUFFERABLE DELAY

 Of all the things I've suffered over the course of this year, the insult to injury was my reading list. I know this will interest only a few of you (possibly none), but I keep to a strict reading list. Unfortunately I am perpetually 10 years behind on everything. I make exceptions every once in a while, but they don't entirely jump the line. I read it at the same time as the one I'm supposed to be reading.

Many years back I inherited a shit-ton of F/SF books. It took a long time for me to catalog them all in my records. They're at the back of the second notebook and the front of the third notebook (yes, I have a reading list longer than a mere single notebook).

When my brother and I got the notice to vacate our childhood home, I was just approaching that part of my reading list. AND THOSE FUCKING BOOKS HAVE BEEN PACKED SINCE 2022. I kept as many books aside as I could for my reading list (I couldn't find three, so I'll have to circle back), but I knew even back then that there was no way we'd still be there by the time I reached the inheritance. Sure enough, I was right.

July 30 is when I get to move into my apartment. All my books will finally be removed from Public Storage and will be at my fingertips once more. I am going to unpack all those glorious books, and I'm going to find those three and read those. And then . . . the inheritance.

I'll finally be back on track with my reading list. Considering the chaos of my life, that's no small thing.

And then, a week later, the cage comes off my foot. At long last.

Just pretend I'm Scrooge McDuck jumping into my vault of gold. Except instead of gold, it's books. Am I wearing pants? I don't know. Maybe? It's your fantasy.

Very well. Our. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Goodnight, Fuckers.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #438: MY READING LIST

 So I'm perpetually ten years behind on my reading list, and I'm slipping even further back. Books that had just been released when I added them were published in 2009 now. It's irritating, but there's nothing I can do about, and like the fucking idiot that I am, I keep buying more and more books. I know for a fact that I'm not going to live long enough to get to them all, and it's probably just going to be a hassle for my relatives when I die.

But I can't help myself.

Not too long ago I found myself looking at that reading list. When I finish a book, I put a dot next to it. I have three notebooks filled with a book on each line. The first notebook is done. I'm halfway through the second. And then I thought that once upon a time this list was only one notebook long. In fact, once upon a time that list was one page long.

And that led me to another strange thought. Once upon a time I didn't have a reading list. I just let chaos guide me. I'd go to the library and pick whatever I wanted to read next. Thinking about the lack of a plan back then shocks me. It's very unlike me. But at the same time, I kinda miss the freedom of something like that. Back when I first started putting this reading list together I fantasized about finishing it and then going back to what I did before: going to the library and letting chaos guide my hand.

That's never going to happen again. Probably. The odds are staggeringly against me on this one. Then again, I figured I'd be dead by now. Death has come for me a few times now, and he always goes away without me. Sometimes he takes pieces of me, like my gall bladder and my toe, but he hasn't gotten the whole package yet. His John Bruni collection is incomplete. It's gotten to the point where sometimes I have this irrational thought that I might not actually die. That I might live until the heat death of the sun. I know that's stupid, but when you've beaten death like I have, it makes you kinda cocky, and we all know what Han Solo said about that.

But what if I do finish the list? What if I got my book habit under control and stopped buying books whenever I felt like it? Just stick to the new releases of a handful of authors. What then?

Just kidding. That's never going to happen. The only reason I didn't buy a book yesterday was because I'm broke. And I spent some time with a friend getting drunk and seeing Ghostbusters: Afterlife. By the time I got home, I was pretty out of it, hence the lack of a GF column last night. I just wanted to watch TV and pass out, which is exactly what I did.

And I'm going to bed now. Goodnight, fuckers.