This January, after forgoing it for all of 2019, I started making monthly “to be read” piles again. My March TBR list has eight titles on its official Goodreads list, plus two unofficial titles I reserved for research. I decided to try out monthly TBR lists mostly to keep my completions on track, thinking that any diversions could be excused as long as I knocked a couple titles off the general TBR and got through the same number of title that were on the monthly one. And then I realized a major wrench that would be thrown into this plan every month, inevitably. It’s a habit I’ve noted countless times, something I’ve been struggling to curb, reason with, and consciously call myself out on:

The impulse library check-out.

Last Saturday, I trekked out to West Philly to check out a couple of bookstores — one completely new to me, one an old favorite — with the intention of jotting down a few notes that I would perhaps spin into a blog post.

Instead, my most serious browsing took place (seated on the floor, the instinctive browsing style of any millennial who coped with the early aughts via the Border’s manga section) in front of the Adult Graphic Novel shelves at Walnut West branch library. That’s how I ended up carrying these around in my purse for the rest of the day.

I brought these beauties home only to be confronted by this:

The thing is, I’m actually registered in two library systems: my local Montgomery County, and the Free Library of Philadelphia. At time of check-out, this is what my reserves looked like:

You can go ahead and say, well, Elaine, both Montgomery County and Philadelphia libraries are closed right now, you’ve self-quarantined, you have plenty of time. Let’s throw some ARCs on there.

Ah, yes. Perfect.

Anyway, “the impulsive library check-out” is the most concise description I’ve been able to come up with, but it’s not very catchy. Any suggestions for what to call this habit?