Little Worlds that Travel With Me.

I started the moving process in earnest today. I moved my desk, my bookshelf, and the vast majority of my books. My room no longer feels like home without the books there. It makes me sad. My books are so much a part of who I am, not having them is like losing a little bit of me. I know that I'll be reunited with them in a few days, but still. It's no fun! I spent a good part of the day reshelving all my old books after boxing them up to paint, and I got all nostalgic. I have books that I remember reading at the age of four, and books that my uncle sent me when I was born. I have picture books, chapter books, every single one of the 40 some odd Mandie books, books about how to make books, random books I found amusing and decided to keep, and lots and lots of fantasy and sci-fi novels. I have books that are almost 150 years old, and books that I've bought within the past week. I have books that my great grandmother owned and read so many times that the covers are close to falling off. I can probably give you some sort of story to go with every single book on my shelves, which is no easy task, considering how many there really are.

Needless to say, I'm grateful for my books. They have shaped my life and personality and will continue to do so as I move forward as a writer and editor. I know they're just objects, but to me, they're a lot more. No place will ever be home to me as long as the bookshelves are empty. And to think, I considered majoring in something other than English!

Here's just a few more things I'm grateful for as I end this day.
-My mom, for giving me those books and teaching me to read at the age of 2.
-One last roomie night, complete with cookie dough, henna, and watching Hugh Jackman in Australia.
-5 minute cold showers. 95 degree heat makes me gross.

So goodnight, all. Go read a book!