"Waterstone's" Has Ruined Me

My Addiction

It should be known that I am not a social person by any means. 

That's not to say that I don't enjoy interacting with people - I do - but the life of a reader/writer requires extended lengths of solitude, and my problem lies in that I am constantly reading or writing. Therefore, a social life has to be pushed to the side in order for me to pursue my hobbies. And honestly? I'm okay with that.

But my passion comes with a price, and that isn't the opportunity to fulfil my long-anticipated 'Rebellious Teen' phase. I'm talking about a literal price; you see, I am addicted to buying books.

Alongside my studies, I have a part time job. Whilst I'm on minimum wage, I still earn enough that I can treat myself from time to time. And, when I do go shopping, all my time is spent in a book store. More precisely, Waterstone's. 

Yes, I know that it's expensive! Yes, I can probably find the same book cheaper online or in another store! I know, I know, but I just love it there! Maybe it's the peace when you first step through the door. It could be the attractive clerk who smiles knowingly at you when you purchase yet another Kerouac novella. Perhaps its the organisation of the books, or the sheer number of books, or the fact that practically every one has a Costa in the back (Chai Latte is yet another vice).

So, whilst I will buy books from other stores if needs be, I will always end up in a Waterstone's. I physically cannot avoid them; it's like they have their own orbit, drawing me in and forcing me to explore. I must have an inbuilt sensor that tells me which way to go to reach the nearest one (no matter where I am or how few times I've visited a city, I will know exactly where to find the store). 

I estimate that over the course of a year I must spend at least £150+ in Waterstone's.

Oh well. If I end up bankrupt, I can build a hovel out of novels.