I forgot myself

The other day I was at the library in a strange part of Singapore. I found a book that was found in only 2 branches of the NLB, both in equally obscure locations. It was a 600+ page book on the first few years of the Spanish empire. I was itching to read about that one day, so I borrowed that book. Similarly, I saw some other books in that branch that weren’t available in my usual nlb haunts, so I proceeded to get some of those books.

All in all, it was 1 long bus ride to another location diametrically across the central water catchment area from where I lived, then a few stops on a few other nlb branches, and then another long bus ride back. When I got home, I was at first happy about my new pile of books, until I remembered something:

Spending the rest of my life with my nose in a book is not a desired outcome for me.

Instead, I was supposed to do the things that responsible adults are supposed to do. Make money. Make love. Go out and meet people. Read about the world today, not just about books. At the very least, I'm not supposed to add new entries to my "to read" list.