At the weekend, this happened:
But it's okay.
Because somewhere between the midnight of Saturday night and the lunchtime of Sunday morning, I found the time to do this:
That wall of books is so very nearly mine.
And I forgot just how cleansing it can be; to re-order and move and clean.
So now I sleep facing the window, instead of beside it. And now those little gaps in my shelves--the ones I have almost made purposeful--are a sure, sure reason to buy more books, no?