For all of those dedicated Americans who believe that shopping at Christmas is their patriotic duty: you are running out of time. Friday is Christmas Eve. The bookstore is actually bustling with business today. Many folks are obviously draining their bank accounts in a feeble attempt to reconnect to friends and family over this Christian/Pagan holiday by giving them gifts. I can barely make it from payday to payday, and that's without throwing a holiday like Christmas into the mix.
I am no longer in between books. In fact, I am just over halfway through Hubert Selby's The Demon. Selby is also the author of Last Exit to Brooklyn and Requiem for a Dream. This book could just as easily been called My Life as Sociopath. I'll most likely have the time to finish The Demon before the week is through. I'm already eyeing Walter Mosley's latest, The Last Days of Ptolemy Gray, as my next read. My wife just finished it last night, and had nothing but good things to say about it.
I came into work an hour early today, but I seriously doubt that the day will see me leaving work an hour early. We've been quite busy, and I assume that my help can be utilized right up unitl 6:30 pm. Otherwise, I would be happy to go home, and get warm with my loved one. I do have to make one stop tonight: my son and his mother are leaving for Georgia for the holiday week, and I want to give my son a hug that will last him the week. We also have a couple of gifts to drop off.
I have just ten minutes left to my lunch break, and then I must wade back into the crowds upstairs. I think that I'll actually have some time to shelve books, which is always fun.