Book Addiction

I have always considered myself a reader.  I remember being in fifth grade and reading for hours on my bed with my legs propped up on my headboard and my hands falling asleep from being held aloft since I always laid down to read.  Reading was simple as a kid.  All the books were short enough to finish in a few days and once I finished one, I started another.  Plowing through books satisfied me.  I loved to finish one and then go to the book store, or order off the school book order, for another piece of literature.  My happy, little, book-reading existance continued throughout high school (although at UHS, time for leisure reading was rare.)

Then,  I met my husband.

Josh is a self-proclaimed "bibliophibian."  He shares my love of books, but has a different view on acquiring them.  At bookstores, I comb through stacks of books, looking for that perfect one that will be the surprise find and keep me enthralled and entertained.  The book I won't ever want to put down.  Josh's philosophy is different: if it looks interesting, get it.

That's how this happened:

Here is non-fiction.

And this is fiction.

The "if it looks interesting, buy it" technique has seriously overwhelmed me as a reader.  I now start a book, find another book that looks interesting and start reading that, before I even finished the first one!  Case in point, my nightstand:

And, I am being completely serious.  I am in the middle of all those books right now.   I feel like I may be the poster child for ADD.  I read 10-20 minutes from 3-4 books a night.  Is this normal?  I have a feeling that it isn't. 

Book addiction?  Maybe.  Too neurotic for my own good?  Oh yes, I have many people who can attest to that one.