My Drug

The first step to curing an addiction is admitting that you have a problem, right? I fully admit that I have a problem, but I don't think I want to be cured of it. I love it. I revel in it. I partake in this addiction at all sorts of times of the day and night, and I have spent countless amounts of money on it. I've been addicted since first grade, and I see no relief in the future.

 I am addicted to new books.

 The first new book I remember getting (though I'm sure I must have had some before this) was a Boxcar Children book. My mom ordered it for me out of my first grade scholastic book order (thanks Mom!). I can't be positive, but I think it was the Case of the Mysterious Twin. Anyway, I remember sitting in my tiny first grade chair, holding the book that the teacher had handed out to me, and thinking, "Wow! This is MY book. I'm going to be the very first person in the world to read this particular book, and it's no one else's but MINE!" Call me greedy, but with the recent addition of my little sister to my family I was starting to fear I would have to share everything I owned. I stared at the shiny sky blue cover in awe, not even wanting to touch it for fear that I would put a fingerprint smudge on the perfect publisher-fresh illustration.

 Fast forward almost twenty years. Here I am sitting at my teacher's desk, and I just wiped a fingerprint smudge off of a brand new book that one of my students bought for me ten minutes ago. I guess I haven't changed much since first grade. The Scholastic book fair is at our school this week, and I bribed my students by saying that anyone who bought me a book from the book fair would get McDonalds fries next week (this bribe always works tremendously well. Fries and extra credit are my two secret weapons). I started to realize that I had an addiction when a student raised her hand and said, "Can we bring you books from home?" My immediate answer was, "No. It has to be a NEW book. Donate all of the old books you want, but I'm only buying fries for people who get me new books."

 Now, if you know me, you know I'm not a very high maintenence person. I rarely buy new clothes. I've never bought new furniture, and I don't think I'll ever buy a new car. I even told Rex that he could buy me a secondhand wedding ring because I didn't really need a new one (he got me a new one anyway). Still, I have a thing about new books. I love them. I must have them. Sure, I buy a ton of used books off of Amazon because they're cheaper, but they just don't give me the same high. I'm like a drug addict who is desperate for a hit of anything but who really wants to get a hold of the "good stuff." I get this thrill every time I hold a new book in my hands, and it's the same thrill that I had in first grade. This is MY book that NO ONE else has ever read. It's perfect - no pages are bent or torn, the cover isn't dirty or smudged, and no one has written anything in it. A tiny bit of perfection resting in my own two hands. It's simultaneously mystical and glorious.

 What caused me to write this blog in the first place is when I realized how weird I must have looked to any passers-by in the hall who saw me sitting here at my desk with my entire face literally buried deep into the pages of my new book. I open each new book to a random page and just smell. I suppose part of the "new book drug" is an inhalent. New books smell SO good, and they always smell the same. It's reassuring to me, like "No matter how crazy the world gets, you can always count on a new book to smell like a new book." Why don't they sell air fresheners that smell like that? I want to move into an old publishing factory or something so I can smell that smell all the time. It's better than the smell of roses or cologne or even puppies (yes, Rex, it smells even better than puppies. We're already married so you can't dump me for that). New books make me so happy. Who can be sad when holding a shiny new book? The world could save a lot of money on therapists and mental health drugs if they would just pass around more new books. Getting my Barnes and Noble Educator's card was probably my favorite part of becoming a teacher. 20% off everything at Barnes and Noble?? SERIOUSLY?? IS THIS HEAVEN!?

 Yes, I know, I have a problem. If you'll excuse me, though, I have a new book to read.