Sad, but true. Books are far easier than people to deal with- for starters they don't talk back, it's their job to entertain you and you can shut them and put them away and pick them up again whenever it is most convenient for you.
You don't have to worry about being witty or cute or whatever romantic stereotype you're supposed to fulfil, hey, you don't even have to look decent to date your bounded, paged, typefaced friend. Books aren't needy or jealous, they don't play whacky mind games with you and they are also portable- able to be taken anywhere, by train, car, boat or plane without the bother of having to fork out extra cash. Books are also very economically viable, they don't eat or drink, require Birthday or Christmas presents and if you get bored of a book you can always get a bit of cash back by exchanging him at your local second bookshop. The range of books is also extensive... interested in a wild romance, a easy to read best seller, a handsome mysterious crime novel, all can be acquired within your local bookstore shelf...
Are you weirded out yet? I'm actually not insane (I swear this statement is becoming more and more necessary in these posts) I think just lazy. My tolerance and patience to deal with another human being is between zero and .... well, zero. Maybe I should re-ignite the cat lady dream, I figure if you're going to be a spinster you may as well do it on a grandiose scale...
Being an old lady with a house full of books is nowhere near as exciting as abusing your neighbours from a rickety rocking chair on your front veranda with a small army of cats negotiating their way through your overgrown front garden... to quote the model of this dream, Mrs Dubose, as found in Harper Lee's 'To Kill a Mockingbird', "Don;t say hey to me you ugly girl!"
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