Camy here! I saw this on Facebook the other day:
At first I was like, THAT IS SO ME!!!
And then my second thought was, Why am I so afraid to be without a book? Isn’t that kind of freaky weird? Does that mean I have some sort of psychological problem? Why is being without a book such an awful thing for me?
Because seriously, nothing annoys me more than being stuck waiting somewhere without a book to read. I have thanked God from the bottom of my heart a few times when I was able to read a book on my iPhone.
Why is having a book with me at all times so important to me? Am I somehow dependent on it? What’s going on with that?
What do you guys think? And no quips from the peanut gallery about the status of my sanity …