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.

Excelsior.

1 Comments:

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 PM  

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