Today at Barnes & Noble, I indulged myself. I bought myself a copy of Aldous Huxley's Brave New World, as I have always wanted to read it and never have, and a book stand. It's very cheap, it looks like it was made out of an old shopping cart, with stems of metal and shards of blue Albertson's-esque plastic piping. But I adore it. I set it up in my bathroom after several frustrating minutes of trying to get it off the cardboard, and put Brave New World on it.
My mother knocked on the door wondering why I was squealing for joy.
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