1. Someone I came across recently has 3000 manga. How many do I have? Fast count of my bedroom shelves (more manga than anywhere else in the house) stops at a mere 500. Maybe a hundred or so more in the rest of the house. But then there are the boxes. *Maybe* another 400 there, not that I'll ever read them. So not more than 1200, which seems low for sixteen years of reading, conservative estimate. My anal soul really wants to do a count now.
2. One reason Kohri is a fast read is the amount of summing up of info we already have. I think we've counted those wandering arms (yes, arms; 'detachable and insertable in other bodies' arms) three times now. I am almost bogging down with this series, which is fine because I'm on my second last volume. Still a good run; I've bogged much faster on both Komahoshi and Yume no Kodomo, but demons will keep me reading where high school students put me to sleep.
3. Have been hanging around the babies this week, which I should not do. Already I feel ominous twinges in the shoulders and neck. But I'm being reminded why I used to hang around the babies, and cuteness is not the reason. Exhaustion is. Three hours flat-out wipes me. It's like taking drugs. Nothing else exists while I'm working; babies require your full attention, which the other age groups do not. And when I'm finished there's that lovely empty-minded blankness, like being drunk. Instant Zen no-mind.
4. Have also been reading my '02 blog. That week I spent in New York in the summer? Was four days, one of which was lost to a stolen wallet. I find this very hard to believe.
5. My greatest pleasure now is sleeping in my cold bedroom, dressed in several layers of flannel, wrapped about in duvets and terrycloth, and bolstered by hwbs and heated beanbags and various pillows. I shall be sorry when it gets cold enough that I have to up the thermostat, because the warmth of central heating really is less conducive to luxurious sleep than the snug bug-in-a-rug of my current arrangement. Also, when it gets that cold the winds blow in the cracks of the windows and, well, it's *cold*.