Thank goodness we take a plane to and from DC. I have my mid-sized rolling suitcase and a carry-on bag. The suitcase is packed tightly; the carry-on has a lot of space. I guess this means that technically I could haul more stuff home to Boston with me.But, truly -- thank goodness for flying because it means I must resist temptation of bringing things home with me. Things I do not need -- like books. More books.
Our hotel is next door to a book store cafe. As if that's not bad enough, we find another book store near my niece's place in Dupont Circle.The hotel-area book store is Busboys and Poets. The selection is limited but eclectic, and I very nearly walk out of there with Seamus Heaney's translation of Beowulf. The one in Dupont Circle that we find is Kramerbooks, and I darn-near walk out of there with several literature-based card games, some magazines, and a few new books.
However, even though I do have some room in my carry-on bag, I don't have the energy left to bring the stuff home with me, so I ultimately decide against buying anything heavier than a postcard. Unusual for me to out-walk my wallet where books are concerned. I am weirdly proud of and ashamed of myself all at the same time.Thank goodness, though. Imagine my suitcase or carry-on being weighed at the airport? I'd have to explain to them that I'm trying to see how many books the floors in my apartment can hold, and, judging by the heft, I'd probably have to buy my books their own airline seat. That would be bad since my sister is occupying the seat already.
Hey, maybe I could get her to carry the books ...
