Tsundoku

I grumble about being busy but free days also are no good for me.

I waffle around, wasting time, dithering, wondering what to do. I look at the study and think I could tidy it. Next minute I am standing in the middle of the study, head in hands, saying, no it's too much. I don't know where to begin.

So I procrastinate and come and blog.

No! I can make a start with my desk. So I clear some rubbish and move some books.

But my book shelves are too full. "Get rid of some books!" I hear Husband's voice in my head. And, yes, it's reasonable: there are books on the shelves I read long ago and I won't read them again but . . . can I do this?

There a small box full of books to go. You can see by the dust and discolouration on the tops how long they've been untouched. I did, however, find quite a lot of books I've not read so they can't go. Some I might never read; some I bought because they were written by someone I was on a writing course with or something; some I bought on a whim; others with good intentions that I never quite found time for; books I've inherited and keep because I think I should; yet more still that are old but I've kept in case one day I want to read a classic. So many good arguments and not enough time to read everything. 

Not to mention the dvds and even videotapes that we don't have a player for.

Oh this is too much. I'm going to sit down and continue my pilgrimage to find grace.