It felt good. Really good to meander through the library, my arms burdened by books.
I seldom do this anymore, whereas it was my M.O. when I was growing up. My enthusiasm for knowledge was bolstered by idealism--that I would actually read everything I checked out.
I definitely read more then. Now my visits to the library so often consist of a brief exchange with the malodorous clerk when I pick up DVDs I had on hold. I'm always in the middle of a book or two; it just takes me longer to get through, and I've accumulated enough books of my own to not need to check out anymore.
It doesn't really matter how many books you own, though. You always want more. Book jackets are constantly flirting with you, suggesting you cheat on your current reading material.
I denied these overtures with logic. But yesterday at the library, I gave in a bit. And it felt good.