Book Lust

I took a bunch of my mom's books to the school library yesterday, for donation. While I was there, I checked out a book. I felt strangely giddy as I carried it back to my office. On my way home at the end of the day, I almost started reading it as I walked (but I wanted to be home for the start of Are You Being Served?, and the reading might have slowed me down).

It wasn't a new book (unless you consider 16 months old new), and I have plenty of other books at home, so why did I feel strangely excited to have it? Maybe it was the fact that, after numerous other attempts, I managed to find it on the shelves before anyone else could check it out. (It is Columbine, by Dave Cullen, which the librarian says is very popular with both students and teachers.) Maybe I just like feeling the protective plastic that libraries wrap around their hardcovers. Maybe it was the right weight. Maybe it's the thrill of something new. (Isn't opening a new book, especially one wrapped in protective plastic, similar to unwrapping a gift?) Maybe I'm just that far gone over books, with no hope for redemption.