Things Have Gotten Out of Control

When it comes to books, I feel like a drug addict. I'm reading a book, but it's not enough. I need to read two books, of different genres. Then I add a third. I can handle it. Why not add a fourth? And when I get to ten books, well that's when I can no longer maintain.

1. The Theory of Moral Sentiments, by Adam Smith
2. Working Toward Zion, by James W. Lucas and Warner P. Woodworth
3. Knowledge and Coordination, by Daniel B. Klein
4. The Theory of the Leisure Class, by Thorstein Veblen
5. The Eleven Comedies, Vol. 1, by Aristophanes
6. The Mindfulness Solution, by Ronald D. Siegel
7. An Incomplete Revenge, by Jacqueline Winspear
8. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, by J.K. Rowling
9. The Road to Wigan Pier, by George Orwell
10. Babbitt, by Sinclair Lewis

I hearby swear that I will not start another book until I'm finished with all 10 of--actually, when I finish five of them, I will allow myself to start The Gold Bat by P.G. Wodehouse, but then I'm not starting another book until I'm finished with all 11 of them. (Possible exception: once I'm done with the Rowling book and the Orwell book, I will probably start reading Catch Your Death by Lauren Child to our kids, but that's just because it seems mean to make them wait until I'm done with TMS.)

I can handle six or seven. Ten is too many.