light refresh-mints

Four white Ikea bookcases line the walls of the media room, three more form a white wall facing the bed in the bedroom down the hall, while yet another in the entry greets me at the front door; on their shelves books lie on top of the standing rows. In the gaps between the cases, piles of other books begin to lean like tiny Towers of Pisa, while in the corners of the bedroom and on tables and desks throughout the condo stacked books stand almost like paper furniture. In the kitchen a row of cookbooks two high line the wall atop one cabinet next to the stove, while others hide behind the door of the microwave stand. And, in the hall and bedroom closet, boxes contain dozens and dozens more—including several in Russian that I probably can no longer even read—while only yards away up the hallway outside my entry door is the condo’s library, so full of books that a sign went up two days ago asking residents not to donate any more. There’s not an empty shelf in the place for Jeff, who in the meantime has started his own corner stack of books and row of magazine files for his New Yorker subscription and a smattering of GQ, Vanity Fair and Condé Nast Traveler.

So what did we go and do tonight? Meeting after work at Pentagon City, heading first for dinner at CPK, we then hit the Borders next door, with a coupon in hand for 10% off our entire purchase, and walked out after a couple hours with even more books.

OK, so at least it was only three this time, two of which—The Da Vinci Code, already on sale before the coupon, and Brian Greene’s The Elegant Universe—we both have been wanting to read, and another—Eragon, a fantasy novel written by then 15-year-old Christopher Paolini—just for me.

Just don’t ask me where we’re going to put them when we’ve finished reading them.