Sometimes, I find myself buying a book at the used bookstore, thinking I’ve never read it, only to get it home, get a few pages in, and discover I have, in fact, encountered it before. Sometimes I don’t mind, but equally as often, I’m disappointed. I mean, I’m all for rereading things, but I want to do it consciously.

So, I have a bookish fantasy. I wish that whenever I finished a book, a ticker tape would emerge from my brain, like paper from an epson receipt printer, and be stored in some multi-dimensional pocket of the universe that I could easily access and cross-reference whenever I was book shopping. In this way, I could see for certain what I’d read, and when, and how much I’d paid for the copy.

As long as I’m fantasizing, I want something that will trigger my memory when I’m staring at shelves, trying to figure out what I want to buy, because often I read other people’s reviews, and think, “I should write down that title,” but I don’t, and then I have no idea what it was I’m looking for.

But then, other people likely don’t have this issue, just as I’m quite certain I’m the only person who can stand in the middle of a bookstore and complain, “There’s nothing to read.”