Surprise! Yeah, this was going to be a Hey Fuckers entry, but I realized I was about to go to bed, so why not label it as a Goodnight, Fuckers?
Anyway, I'm getting big boy internet at home now, and part of the deal is, I have to move two of my bookcases so the guy can drill through my bedroom wall to wire this old house (which can only handle antenna media) with digital. This means I have to move the books away first, and when I saw my first empty bookcase, it bothered me.
I never thought I'd see my bookcase empty in such a fashion. There are two circumstances I could have understood such a thing. Either I would move into a place closer to my square job, which I can't afford right now (but I want desperately), or I would be dead, and my relatives are picking through my books in the hopes of finding a rare edition (which is altogether possible, by the way, since I'm a reader of great, if questionable, taste).
This bookcase is such a part of my life that I walked into my bedroom tonight, and I thought I might have gone blind in my periphery because I'd moved the bookcase out earlier today. A blank wall faced me, and I blinked. I rubbed my eyes. It didn't make sense to me until I remembered the move from earlier today.
This goes against all I stand for. Saturday needs to come quickly. This guy needs to install my shit as soon as possible, so I can move my bookcase (and, obviously, my books) back to where they belong, so I don't have to doubt my sanity. I still have several other bookcases in here, but still. It's not enough. I can't have blank space on my wall, space were books should be but aren't.
All right, there might be something wrong with me. Possibly. But still.
I just looked at that wall, and I felt deja vu, which probably means I'm in the Matrix right now. I might need another drink to help me sleep tonight. Ha-ha, just kidding about that "might" part.
Goodnight, empty-bookcase-shaped hole in my life.
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