Yesterday I spent two hours in a bookstore trying to find (wait for it)…one book. Yes, I spent two hours in Waterstones trying to buy ONE book. No book in particular, I just had some spare cash (which is a miracle it’s self) and thought hmm let me just get one book and that’s my TBR for October done.
It is like a bookstore is my heaven and hell at the same time. I get sucked into the magical world of endless hardbacks and fiction novels that it takes an extraordinary amount of will power to pick just one book and leave my paradise.
It doesn’t help having a big TBR in my lifetime list because I think ah Cinder! I need to start that series or everything everything! I so need to get this book. I’m pretty sure I spent just one hour in the Young Adult section and I didn’t even get a YA book!
The book that I did finally get Miss Peregrine’s Home for Perculiar Children, which I am happy to have finally, but my mind wanders and thinks if you didn’t get the sausage roll you could of gotten Six Of Crows or other awesome YA or fantasy or contemporary book.
So yes, I hate bookstores, but I also wish I could stay their into the sun rises the next morning.