I read a lot – I think not as much as I used to, though I still find the time to read books that interest me and for pleasure. A lot, if not most, of the books I read I borrow from the library. I love going to the library. I even have fun finding a book using the Dewey decimal system. That wasn’t always the case, though: I remember how it used to boggle my mind when my Dad tried explaining it to me, even showing me, and I’d pretend I’d understand. Mostly by nodding and peering at the code on the end of the book spines, when really I was just scanning the titles and hoping I’d find the particular book, with my mind drawing a blank the entire time. I probably wasn’t fooling anyone, but my seven-year-old (or thereabouts) self thought so. Maybe this is why I take delight – to the point of geeking out; I even researched how the Dewey decimal system is organized – in finding a book using it and because I actually do understand it now and know how to navigate a shelf. The worst thing that could happen now is when a book is misplaced, and even then that’s not so bad.