Help! I'm drowning in travel books!

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For those who don't know me well, I'm addicted to the idea of travel. Not so much traveling itself, but planning and reading about exotic places. I'm even starting classes this fall to get my travel and tourism certification. Do I need it? Will I ever use it? Nope. Except to plan my own travel and maybe learn how to get someone who speaks English on the phone at the port authority in Puerto Rico.

My husband's favorite place is Barnes and Noble. Or Books A Million. Or pick any bookstore chain that discounts. And everytime he goes, I am inevitably dragged along, kicking and screaming. But I buy at least 4 books to his every 1. And the last couple of days I've been burying myself in my travel books: Puerto Rico, Florida Keys, Charleston, Savannah, and those lovely "1000 Places to See Before You Die" books. I go to dozens of websites, plug stuff into my GPS, and play with Google Earth until my eyes no longer focus. Bit of an addiction.

So when I woke up this afternoon around 1, and looked to my left, I realized I have a problem. I am an addict. Piled on the dresser are 5, count them, FIVE travel books. I opened the drawer to put them away only to find FIVE MORE! Ok, let's hunt down a place to put them away. And there isn't one! My shelves are full, the drawers in the spare room are full. I have books for places I will most likely never go! The first step is admitting I have a problem, right?

I didn't do a ton today. Dishes. Some laundry and organizing. Organizing makes me feel like I'm in control, especially when it means I can find my clothes without rummaging through overstuffed drawers. Had the hiccups the entire day. Watched Ginger play with a piece of fuzz. Seriously, I'm not a whole lot of fun.

Tomorrow is a busy, stressful, not so fun day. Yet another trip to gosh darn Walter Reed, for just a lovely, routine appointment. But it means at least an hour drive. Since it's me driving, it will take two. I wish I didn't have to go so I could go with Rachel to pick out a new car!! Then to belly dancing lessons. *grumble* I'm be grateful when those are over and I can find another type of exercise that doesn't involve half naked skinny girls and a roomful of mirrors.

Today's lesson: It is very possible to have too much of a good thing, as anyone who's ever had a long night of drinking knows. But a long night of reading travel books? Is this a hangover or a layover?

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