So, I have a meeting at university this afternoon, and I wanted to buy a USB stick while I was there. I go into the city, and think, "I might steer through Pulp Fiction on the way! Sure, there's less than a snowball's chance in hell that they have Locked Rooms
so soon, and I've decided to put off buying The Hallowed Hunt
for another week, but I can stand there and savour the genre novel smell!"
Off I go, through the freezing wasteland
that was central Brisbane today. Into Pulp Fiction. Where there were a DOZEN copies of Locked Rooms
behind the counter. Special orders, of course. All sealed up with rubber bands. And people were BUYING THEM. Three copies walked out while I was gaping. And I didn't even have the common sense to mug them! The rest of the books just sat behind the counter, and mocked me
. They were all lined up next to a book on Daleks, which I can only assume is one of life's dirtier tricks.
So I put my GREAT PAIN behind me, and turned to the science fiction/fantasy half of the store. Where there is one -- just one -- copy of The Hallowed Hunt
left, where last week there were several. I picked it up to leaf through it -- nothing more, I swear -- when I heard the counter dude talking to his sales rep, who told him that further Bujold hardback imports might be a bit slower over the next few months.
So here I am, holding the last copy of The Hallowed Hunt
in Brisbane, and somehow, I found myself standing at the counter, handing over the plastic. How did that happen? I can only assume that some kind of possession took place. I certainly deny ALL responsibility.
I took one lingering look at the special orders behind the counter, but decided that I probably wouldn't be able to jump the counter, brave the Dalek book and
get away. So I made my mournful way down to uni, and attempted to ignore the buyer's remorse which was already descending.
At uni, I wandered through the campus bookstore, admiring the stationery -- I do enjoy good stationery; a good, plain, blue-lined notebook is one of my great joys in life, and I'm afraid that if you give me fancier paper, I just won't use it -- and checking out the price of the USB sticks. They were significantly cheaper at uni than at any of the computer stores, of course, and I mentally reviewed the money in my bank account, came up with a positive integer, and bought one. So now I can watch Doctor Who
, or at least, I can transfer the raw .rar files to my brother's computer, and we'll see what amusing roadblock appears next.
Went to the meeting, and came away stuffed full of enthusiasm for my course, and a vague desire to do at least one piece of assessment as a blog. Bought pies for dinner, hopped on the bus and wondered why my buyer's remorse had now expanded, so it was roughly the size of a small continent.
Oh yes, I remembered as the bus cleared Taringa, I did groceries this morning, too. So I had less money in the bank than I'd thought when I bought the USB stick. And thus less money for the rest of the week. Bugger, bugger, bugger.
So I'm living on noodles and toast for the next few days. Oh well, I think, at least I'll be well-entertained. It was worth it.
Get home. Share my tale of woe with pieceofalice
, who reacts with the usual mixture of sympathy and fear that accompanies these stories, and wonders if I'm feverish. And then she reminds me of the USB sticks at Officeworks ... which are literally half the price of those at uni.
Buyer's remorse: roughly equivalent to the size of Europe.
Twitchy desire to cancel life and spend week locked in room, reading: Powerful.
Capslock: ...surprisingly not so much.