There is nothing inspiring about selling a house.
If, like my dad, you're good at landscaping, I suppose it could be an opportunity to create landscape art in the name of curb appeal.
If, like my mom, you're good at interior design, you could potentially flex your creative muscles in a bid to make the inside so welcoming that your buyers insist on keeping all the furniture and accessories (this actually happened once).
I have neither of those skills. The height of my house-selling creativity has been applying touch-up paint to scuffs on the walls.
I've been taking refuge at Barnes and Noble whenever my realtor needs me out of the house, which is a dangerous thing to do. I was there for a few hours yesterday, and I was absolutely determined to not buy anything except my lunch. I was going to completely avoid temptation by not even looking at any books or DVDs. I even took my netbook to work on a writing project so I wouldn't get bored.
Unfortunately, I brought the wrong cable and couldn't plug it in.
So I got bored.
I played it fairly safe. I stopped by the reference section. I glanced at the plays. I flipped through a couple books about television shows. I meandered over to the poetry section. I picked books up and put them back down. I read bits and pieces and set them aside. I was doing very well.
Then I started skimming The Mousetrap And Other Plays by Agatha Christie. And after that I saw the copy of Beowulf as translated by J.R.R. Tolkien, which I'd heard was coming out back in June at the Glen Workshop.
I didn't stand a chance. I bought them both.
On the plus side, I did get an idea for a Beowulf-related story while reading that book's introduction. So, basically, I can justify that purchase by calling it research. As for the Agatha Christie volume...character study. Yes. You see? Research again. A legitimate, even necessary expense.
Don't judge me. :)