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Help! I am drowning in a sea of debt and self-induced torture.

I keep having this recurring dream. I am on the mainland, but I have romantic notions about an island that I can see off in the distance. It’s so far off, it is barely a speck, and I want to be there, but I know that the ocean is rough and there is just as much chance that I will miss the mass entirely as make land fall. But I can’t help it. The island is so tempting, and the mainland isn’t satisfying me.

So, I hop aboard a small boat and paddle myself in the direction of geographic ecstasy. I think that I might make it. I have the determination, the knack for rowing. But no! A huge wave comes and washes me overboard. I am out at sea, floating, and that’s when I realize…

It’s books I’m floating in. Not water. Books. Books upon books upon books. The good news is I can’t drown. But the paper cuts are a bitch!

This is an entirely fictional dream made up for the sole purpose of making you feel enough pity to buy.

Thank you.

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