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Around 2005 I started filling my wishlist on amazon with all the books I where liked the idea of having read them. Which are quite a lot. It didn't take long until I did not have only one, but over two dozen lists, neatly categorized by genre for fiction and by topics for non-fiction.
About a year ago, sometime in autumn, I did the math: there were 1473 books on the lists (maybe a bit less if I'd accounted for the few books where I've might have added different editions). If I wanted to read them all, and assuming optimistically I'd manage to read one book per week (which is a pace that I was able to keep up with when I had no kids), I'd be way beyond retirement age (67 at the time of writing) until I would be finished. Factoring in my actual reading pace, there was no chance to finish the list in my lifetime.After a little bit of soul-searching I decided in an act of liberation from self-inflicted fear of missing out to discard all those lists. It's not hard to find something worthwhile to read, but it is very hard to protect your time against the background noise of the daily grind. Step one on that journey: not wasting any more time curating or perusing a wishlist. Indeed that would be much better spent to (re-)read Michael Endes Momo or Senecas De brevitate vitae to be reminded of the value of your time.