Sunday, December 09, 2007

...I lost a book

I have no idea why this aggravates me so. I've read it three times already. My copy of Pratchett's Carpe Jugulum slipped out of my pocket while I was out and about at St. Lawrence Market today. I'm not sure where. It wasn't at the restaraunt, where I was last reading it, and it wasn't on the street that I could find. The only thing I can figure is that it fell out of my pocket in the market, or that I accidentally took it out of my pocket and put it down on a table (which I can't see me doing). Went through a quick search, but I'm pretty sure it got kicked under a table or someone just walked off with it.

It only cost me like...$8. But still. On principle, I cannot stand to see a book lost or damaged. Throwing a book away is anathema. I love books, not only for content but also for their corporeal state. A book is a book...its not just a bunch of pieces of paper. The compilation of them mean something. So losing one has not put me in a good mood.

I guess I'll have to buy another copy tomorrow. Must get back to studying now.



Anonymous Jason said...

Suck, Bard. I've had that happen to me, once or twice, and I've hated it every damn time. It's frustrating to no end.

But as a consolation, consider that you've let the book out into the wild - someone's likely to find it and, hopefully, give it a new home.

Incidentally, check my blog tomorrow or so. I'm engaging in the sort of post-modern sympathetic magic that would make you proud, and I'm gonna write a bit about it soon. :)

8:07 p.m.  

Post a Comment

<< Home