I read between books. Beside my bed there is a stack of books fresh from the Library. The stack is always there. I keep adding a book as soon as I finish reading one. If I am traveling I check if my Kindle is charged every five minutes. It’s called Excessive Compulsive Reading Syndrome (ECRS). ECRS’s are part addicts, part romantics, and one hundred percent certified detached from reality. There is no literature about this syndrome, mostly because I just invented it, and also because I didn’t have time to write about it. I intend to rectify this slight. ECRS is not fatal, but is not curable either. Furthermore, significant others of ECRS’s will suffer along their houses, offspring, and pets, because they are not: knights in shining armors, manors, geniuses, mythological creatures. It is proved (by my intensive study on the subject) that buying flowers, chocolates, strings of black pearls, can help the ECRS’s in connecting with this plane of existence, otherwise known as nowadays Earth. Just recently (as in right now I am writing it) it has been also suggested that breakfasts in bed, romantic gateways in Cancun, sensual courtships, and the occasional love letter, can improve the ECRS’s symptoms. Avoid at all costs to approach the ECRS’s when the time is not right (it changes every month if the patient is not regular). Soothing words, warm chocolate, and skillful massages, will help if, having discarded the professional warning, the contact has already happened. When in doubt administer freshly brewed tea at regular intervals. Beware of the times when the Library Express is under maintenance and Saturn is in opposition . Just run away.