My housemate Jim (and his dog Whistler) moved out last week, and not only did we get a new housemate (and a new dog), but the bookshelf he was using went empty. So I've moved the three giant stacks of books that were in my room down there, and that's been pretty great.
The only thing is now there's a monster inside me.
It's a monster that wants me to go buy more books, now that I have the room. I have to work pretty hard to resist him, but he's in there. He has needs. Further updates as events warrant.
For some reason this made me think of that dude from the Indiana Jones movie; I don't really know why.
In other news, the ads on the Dogblog now make more sense (i.e. not sock-related), so if you want to go over there and click on them, that would be awesome.