A new gym just opened down the street from our house. It's called Sweat. But as I proved today, one does not need a gym membership to sweat.
Why am I so sweaty and disgusting? Well, because first I carried these bookshelves up the stairs, all by myself.
And then because I carried these 18 (yes, 18) boxes full of books (yes, heavy heavy books) up the stairs by myself.
I realized that maybe we have too many books, so my friend Leslie came over and helped me sort through them. As a fellow English graduate student, she was well-equipped for the task, reminding me that I don't have to keep the 800 page book of John Updike criticism since my field is African lit.
Speaking of books, here is a link to a list of 1001 books to read before you die:
It's certainly a debatable list, but my mom, dad, sister and I had fun going through it in Arkansas last weekend. I read all 1001 titles out loud and we kept score. I won't say who won, but all performed admirably. I had between 115 and 120, depending on whether I count books that I read abridged versions of, and allowing for errors in memory. Check it out if you're bored, and leave a comment if you beat my score and feel like bragging.
