I'm packing books again. This time I'm boxing up some of the stacks of books currently on the floor of my living room. These are my purchases from recent months, and select titles that I brought over from the house. I'm putting books to-be-read-later in the living room closet. Books to be read in the more immediate future will be on my shelves. Also on my shelves will be books that I just like to look at, like my collection of New York Review of Books classics. I'm a bookaholic. I admit that freely. There is no cure. Downsizing one's living space can put a damper on the rate of collecting. It doesn't seem to have stopped me though. There's something about a 40% discount on used books that's just irresistible...literally.
My son will be spending three nights of every week at my place now, so I've got to try and give him some space. I think that he'll be getting the bed with the heated mattress pad and heated blanket, and I'll get the futon couch, sleeping at an angle, and feeling like I'm perpetually falling of a cliff.
This weekend we'll be arising early on Saturday to take the train from Seattle south to Portland, Oregon. It will be just a one night jaunt to the city proper, with a return trip just after lunch the following day.
The Ohio Players' "Love Rollercoaster" is playing. That must mean that it's time to get back to cleaning the apartment. I need to set a good example for my son.