Saturday, August 13, 2011

BEDA Day 13: The Lost Blog

I forgot to blog yesterday.

Actually, that is a bit of a misstatement. I remembered at about 9:30 that I hadn't written a blog yet, but I chose not to. I was tired because I'd just gotten home from running errands with my mom, and I just wanted to be on skype and go to bed early. I would apologize, but I probably spared you all from a very half-hearted blog about the inane things I bought that day in preparation for university.

About two months ago, I was at Barnes and Noble, presumably to buy books.* While there, I was browsing the section on math (because that is a thing I do), and I saw a book MOSTE WONDERFUL. I was enticed by its description, and drawn in by the short excerpt I read. But I chose not to buy it that day, because it was an expensive hardback and my funds were limited.

As with most books, I figured that I would eventually forget about it and move on. However, two months later, I found myself thinking wistfully back on that day when I did not purchase the book. And then thinking even MORE wistfully on that day when I did not make note of the title or the author. All I remember about the book is that it was in the math section, it had to do with the way that people think, and I WANT IT VERY MUCH, YES I DO.

This evening, in a foolish attempt to find the book, I went with my sisters back to the Barnes and Noble. They abandoned me for the Young Adult section as I meticulously looked at each title in the math section, to no avail.

My plan thwarted, my heart breaking, I decided that I would feel even worse if I left the store with no book in hand. So I again went through the books, this time not searching for my potential literary soul mate, but for another book that could fill the void in my heart.

I settled on one titled "Iconoclast: a neuroscientist reveals how to think differently." To all appearances it is very appealing and engaging, and I will try my best when reading it not to think of my mystery book. After all, it is devastating to one's ego to know that another person in a relationship is comparing you to someone else. Or, as it were, something else. Ahem.

With literariness,

*I feel this is a good guess as to my purpose being there, wouldn't you say?

1 comment:

  1. Props on spelling moste with an e. Hats off, sirrah.