But What If I Run Out?

We visited my mother, brothers, and families this weekend, a three hour trip each way by car. For two days and one night, most of which was of course filled with visiting with family, I took one substantial novel I had just started reading ("My Hollywood," which I am sure I will be posting on in a few days), six magazines, and that day's newspaper. I came back tonight having read that day's newspaper and a few pages of one magazine. What was I thinking? I knew I would never read more than a very small portion of what I took, yet I was impelled to take it all anyway. I think the key is a fear of running out of things to read, a fate too awful to contemplate. This is one case when I never learn from experience, and keep doing the same thing over and over again. Fortunately there are no serious negative consequences of hauling reading material back and forth in one's suitcase.