It's library day tomorrow. Which means that tonight, yet again, I have to bid adieu to good intentions, to "you looked interesting on the new book shelf," to "that review made it sound like you were the perfect book for me", to "I wanted to read you so that I could understand what my sons were so excitedly babbling."
I'm never quite sure what I'm going to be in the mood to read next, so I borrow a good variety of books, but, the sad fact is I read less than a quarter of the books I take out of the library. And I take out of the library only a fraction of the books that look interesting. I've resigned myself to never keeping up, catching up, enjoying them all. In fact, I've stopped taking the time to add things to my TBR shelves, because I never seemed to go back to the list, there's always something new catching my attention. But it is still bittersweet to send them back unread and know that I will likely never have the time to get back to them.