The Book Gods Probably Think I Need To Be Medicated

I’ve found myself going slightly insane this past week because I’m on my reading week which means I actually have free time and free time is probably the best present you could give me next to money… and maybe the diploma I paid thousands of dollars for, but free time isn’t a gift that I usually receive so when I do receive it, I crawl out of my cave (aka my bedroom that is littered with dirty laundry that I had no time to clean until this week) with a look of confusion and search for my family and friends and a normal sleep schedule that seems to have been missing since my senior year of high school.

I’ve been filling my time reading books that don’t involve human anatomy and aren’t required readings for my exams or for assignments and it was no surprise when I discovered that I don’t actually own any books that don’t have to do with human anatomy so almost every day this week I’ve taken my moms minivan to the nearest Chapters bookstore and grabbed every book within my slight that looked even remotely funny and had nothing to do with the human heart or statistics or contained the words “health care provider” anywhere within them.

I discovered that my new favourite place is the business section in Chapters because nobody ever goes down there and I can sit in peace with a stack of books that I find hilarious and entertaining and nobody will judge me for sitting on the floor while looking at books with pictures in them even though I’m a 20 year old, full grown adult. While reading these books I suddenly remembered that I have a blog and it’s probably covered in tumble weeds and cob weds from neglect and if there was social services for blogs, I probably would have been reported long ago and would be sitting down in an interview with scary government people trying to explain why my blog shouldn’t be taken away from me and sent to a group home, so I thought that it would be both productive and entertaining to write about the writing that I encountered while at Chapters.


Who would have thought this would be the second best place next to heaven and the McDonalds drive through after a wicked hankering for french fries

I started off with this lovely book titled “The Life-Changing Magic of Not Giving a F*ck” by Sarah Knight and it’s not the typical book that I would gravitate towards mostly because I don’t use profanity (unless I accidentally stub my toe or people cut me off while driving) and it was in the “Do It Yourself” section of the bookstore (which I think was put there out of pure humour because this book is obviously just one big troll for people to read and should be in the humour section but someone at Chapters was feeling like a level 100 troll one day and put it in the DIY section) and I was feeling adventurous so I picked it up and I’m so glad I did because it contained things like this:


I personally believe I am in “The Enlightened” category but most of my friends would disagree with that and would put me in the second category.

I also enjoyed this list of things that I should and should not be…caring… about because all of these are extremely accurate except for Greek yogurt. Yogurt that’s so thick is stays on the spoon even when its tipped upside down? Why wouldn’t you care about that!?


This book also decided my outfit for every Monday for the rest of my life.


The next book was called “Nice is Just a Place in France” by The Betches. I picked this one up only because of the name of the authors, obviously. I realized this was probably meant to be an extension onto the bible (as if the bible wasn’t long enough) because it contained some key life lessons that I didn’t realize I needed on my personal appearance.


Texting habits were also mentioned. I’ve been superhyped on Adderall for the last 6 years apparently.


It also told me that the root of all my problems is my enormous hair, which I already suspected was the culprit.


I then found a book that was an adult picture book (that I unfortunately cant remember the name of nor who the author is…please don’t sue me) which was AMAZING because it was like reading curious George all over again except George got a little too curious and ended up experimenting with drugs and went to college and became a wild party animal (pun intended) and is now an alcoholic and is stressed and in just as much debt as every other North American college student.


Yes, exactly my life.

I probably sat there on the floor of the business section for a good 45 minutes and I probably would have sat there for at least another hour if I didn’t come across this page that made me question why I found the activity of sitting in the business section reading adult humour books, enjoyable.


I thought that the “Book Gods” were trying to send me a message that it was time to put the books back now so I walked my way to the humour section but couldn’t help but notice the God forsaken romance novels that were so conveniently placed on a red rack with a sign overtop that said,  “For Your Valentines Day Pleasure” and I instantly wanted to throw up my Starbucks coffee that cost me almost $6 but I held it in because I cant afford to throw $6 onto the floor of the business section and I would instantly regret my life because all the business men coming to pick up books on financing or stocks or motivation would have to walk around my vomit but now that I think about it, if you’re buying books from the business section am I really the one who should be regretting their life here?

The Book Gods had made me realize that my choices in literature are questionable for sure, but at least I don’t read this,


or this,


or- are you kidding me? Is she… in a wheelchair?


Suddenly, I didn’t feel so bad about reading a book that had a section on anal being the final frontier.


3 thoughts on “The Book Gods Probably Think I Need To Be Medicated

  1. “Is she in a wheelchair?” At least they’re equal opportunist in their romance writing, I guess. XD

    I 100% recognise that cartoonist and it’s driving me crazy I can’t remember her name. Oh well, sometime I’ll write you a comment on an unrelated post yelling “I’VE GOT IT, HER NAME IS JANE DOE” and you won’t have the foggiest what I’m on about.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I can just image you spending 2 hours of your time between the 1st comment you left me and this one, trying to figure out the name of this artist. But I’m so glad you did because now I’m going to go creep her website and surround myself in comical satire that defines my life.

      Liked by 1 person

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