Ramblings about my reading obsession

Those of you who know me at all know that I have been obsessed with reading ever since I read my first book (Laurie and the Yellow Curtains), when I was somewhere around 4.
Once the process "clicked" in my tiny little brain I was hooked and that started a lifelong love affair with the written word.  My mom shaped my addiction by having mysteries all over the house.  Some of my favorite authors came from her.  Katherine Hall Page, Sarah Graves, Nancy Atherton.
If it's a cozy mystery, I'll probably at least try it, and most of the time I'll like it.  Nancy Drew, Sue Barton, Cherry Ames, all of those were childhood friends, and sometimes they were more real to me than the kids I played with in the backyard.  Now I've added another addiction: urban fantasy.  It's all Harry Dresden's fault...I now have to keep two genre lists of new releases, my book budget is at an all time high, and even then it's impossible to buy all the new releases every month that I'd like to have and/or read.  My calibre collection is now in the thousands, and realistically, will I ever have time to read all of them?  It's something I don't like to think about. Every gadget I buy has to meet one criteria: I must be able to read on it.  My phone is a Droid X (Aldiko).  My Sony 950 is nearly  my constant companion.  I unexpectedly ended up with an iPad and what's the first thing I put on it?  iBooks, yep.

I tried figuring how many feet of shelves I'd need if my ebook collection was physical once.  It added up to more wall space than this house even has.

All that being said brings me to my point (maybe).  This semester is my last General Education class for my degree,  English Composition II.  It's more a reading class than a writing one so far, and it's made me think about how and why I read.  I read for pleasure, for stress relief, for life.  Reading is as essential as breathing for me.  A world without books and reading wouldn't be worth living in in my opinion.