|The price of good sense
||[Jun. 20th, 2003|07:54 pm]
I am, for the most part, a very even-tempered person. I have a mature outlook on life, I believe in playing fair, I go out of my way to settle disputes with people, I am kind and generous and giving. I like these attributes about myself.
But when, on rare occasion, I give in to baser instincts and want to have things my way, I become possessed of a fierce sense of entitlement. "Dammit," I think, stamping my dainty little size 10s, "I'm good about everything else! Why shouldn't I have my way this time!"
And the event bringing on my moral outrage today? I don't want to wait for amazon.com to deliver the new Harry Potter book to me tomorrow. I don't want to go to bed tonight not being certain that it will arrive on my doorstep before noon. Hell, I don't want to go to bed without cracking the cover and devouring the first hundred - or so - pages of the book.
I want, in short, to venture out to Borders at midnight tonight and buy another copy of the book for my own greedy reading pleasure.
There is, I will say in my defense [*cough* justification *cough*], some logic in this thought. I live with theferrett, a man whose reading speed approaches sonic. The last time my reading speed was tested, it was 750 words a minute. He reads at least three times faster than I do. (Yes, it's fucking intimidating.) Plus, his work schedule means that he can take big hunks of the day and devour the book. He will have finished it by the middle of next we--. Oh hell, what am I saying. He'll probably read it on Monday. Which means he will know who has died, will know the great secrets of this tome, will be itching to talk about it - and I will be stuck trying to avoid spoilers and struggling to get through it until at least next weekend. A jumpstart tonight will help me get through it, and mean that if it arrives on time tomorrow we can both be reading instead of me having to wait until he's done and then giving me those knowing glances as I read. I HATE that.
But most of all, I want to be there for the excitement. I, who stood outside in the cold for hours to see the first showing of the Star Wars Special Edition (in Alaska in subfreezing weather, fergawdsakes), who stood outside in only slightly warmer weather for 8 hours to get first showing tickets to The Phantom Menace (and the less said about that, the better), who talked her hubby into basing their honeymoon around the first Farscape convention, I LOVE the excitement of opening night, the thrill of sharing that with other fans.
Our copy of The Order of the Phoenix will arrive quietly tomorrow, wrapped in brown paper, thrust into our hands by a harried delivery man who has a truck full of books and a contract to meet. His eyes won't shine. He won't share in my squeal of delight.
It's just not the same....