This one's got to do with ebooks v/s 'real' books.
What's an ebook, anyway? So the dictionary definition may differ (more than) slightly, but essentially it's a lovely book that's taken and put into electronic form, with no way to feel the pages, cool and crisp to the touch. No way to hold the book up to the old olfactory glands and take a deep breath, and inhale the - if I may - aroma. Have you noticed how each book carries a different smell, has a personality of its own? A new book, all crisp white pages has a sharp tang, while an older book, slightly mellow, a warm, musky aroma? At the risk of sounding like I have (more than just) borderline OCD, let's move on... *cough* objectively.
Why would I read an ebook? Umm, speaking for myself, at the risk of sounding geeky and so not with it, I may not. Ever. As of now, I don't. Nothing, and I mean nothing, comes even remotely close to holding a book, turning each page over carefully, popping a bookmark into place, and then... re-reading it once done. Rinse repeat. At home, should you ever visit, you'll realise that I'm running out of space for mundane things such as linen, clothes, random odds and ends... and all because the books threaten to take over the apartment. It's a mutiny of sorts, really.
For the sake of argument, I do realise that reading something online, say right here in blogland, does come somewhere close to an ebook. It's not like you print these pages and read, right? Hmm. But I choose to ignore that. *looks away and whistles*
Convenience and things apart, I like my half hour of bedtime reading; there's nothing that puts a crazy day into perspective better. Unless it's a dog. Hmm. But I digress (as usual). Conclusion = no ebooks for me, not for a loooooooong time.
The dog is another story.