It’s a good feeling to sell off a box (or three) of books that you’re not going to re-read, or that you never read, or that you don’t even know how you got a hold of in the first place. It’s an even better feeling to come out of the whole transaction with fewer books than when you went in — meaning that you didn’t get silly and go on a binge through the aisles while the buyer inspected your wares.

It’s not such a good feeling to be reorganizing your bookshelves afterwards and find piles of books stuffed in corners and cabinets all over the apartment. I love books and all, but this is ridiculous.