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Is it wrong, is it bad that with all the new books I have to read, what I really want to do is reread Franny and Zooey?

I didn't used to feel guilty at rereading things. I used to read books five or six times as a matter of course. But lately it's been dawning on me how many books there are in this world that I want to read or will want to read, and how much of my life I've spent reading the same things over and over. So now when I try to reread something this guilt often prevents me.

(Not right now. Right now I'm not only rereading an extremely mediocre Stephen King novel, but I'm forcing myself to enjoy it, as an excercise to try and rid myself of this guilt. It's not really working. There's nothing wrong with rereading things. I used to love it. Damn me! Just accept the fact that you're going to die not having read everything you want to. Do you want to spend the time you have feeling guilty? And is this not the stupidest thing in the world to feel guilty about? Books is books is bookses bookses bookses!)

Anywhom. Mom gets home at 6:30; she and sis and I have dinner downstairs in the diner. Then we go to airport. At 10:30 I get on plane to Heathrow. Some hours after landing I get on plane to Arlanda, Stockholm. That's the plan.

Dunno if there'll be much blogging for the next three weeks, but time will tell. Just in case, Happy Mark day in advance, Happy Fourth of July in advance, and Happy Tavie Day in advance.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:30 PM | shower me with attention