I thought it would be easier to negotiate

Some people visit my home, and say something on the order of, "Wow, you have a lot of books." Others say something like, "But where are all your boo-- Oh. Of course. You get most of them from the library." (The latter are more likely to be kindred spirits.) Thanks to ruthless culling, and the fact that I have to pass the library on my way to almost any bookstore, I've managed to keep my books from taking over my apartment. The straightforward shelving (everything but technical references and religion, all together without genre divisions, on particleboard shelving units) has been gradually supplemented by cardboard boxes and moderately tidy heaps of things waiting to be shelved. The "moderately tidy heaps" approach only goes so far, in earth gravity, before becoming untidy heaps, and then taking over the apartment. This is NOT the object of the game.

Last weekend, I went shopping for a new bookcase. Several years ago, when I was looking for some of my previous bookcases, a friend gave me a catalog for solid wood furniture. She suggested that it might not be a good idea for me to bring hundreds of pounds of glue-saturated particleboard into my apartment, when so many solvent fumes were bad for my headaches. (Even something as innocuous as perfume components could still be migraine triggers for me.) I thanked her for her concern, but basically blew it off. I was in enough pain that I could just barely cope with the particleboard bookcases, moving them a few boards at a time. Another helpful friend helped me assemble them, and they haven't moved since. Even without the books, even without the removable shelves, they're too heavy for me. Solid wood must be heavier, right, with all the connotations of "solid?" How on earth could I get it home, carry it upstairs? And the furniture in the nice catalog was beyond my budget. It all seemed impossible, without some compelling reason. Surely I would have noticed some kind of bad reaction to particleboard, wouldn't I? Maybe not. I probably haven't spent more than two days away from particleboard in many years.

The kind and generous Webbob gave me a little shelf, that will help tidy some of the heaping. (It matches the rest of my furniture! It's a cute little thing, if you think stocky, sturdy, sorts of builds are cute. As I do.) However, the cute little shelf is a *little* shelf, part of which may end up pressed into service for chatchkas instead of books. So I finally went out and bought a real solid wood bookcase. And it's much lighter than particleboard. (Duh. No glue. Glue is heavy.) And I got it in Brighton, at Bostonwood, instead of from a nice catalog, so it's cheap. They probably call it medium-sized, just barely small enough to fit into my car with the backseat down. The nice fellow took it home for me, but I'm strong enough to pick it up and move it across the apartment all by myself.

One reason it's cheap is that it's unfinished. I considered leaving it unfinished, because I like the look of it. Then I thought about the particleboard that's already starting to warp after 2 summers in my apartment. Huge humidity changes aren't good for unfinished wood. The sealant I bought at Bostonwood is called "Wipe-On Poly," so I'm hoping it has less solvent than the sprayable sealant. (Maybe even less than the brushable, but that's probably a wash.) I still don't know if I react badly to solvents gradually offgassing from particleboard, I'm just starting to think it might be possible. But I *know* I react badly to xylenes! And that's what will be evaporating from the solid wood bookcase after I seal it. I'm just hoping it will be a small amount, that can evaporate completely in one warm dry day while I go to work and leave the windows open. Luckily today is supposed to be warm and dry, instead of typical November. The instructions for "Wipe-On Poly" recommend applying two coats, sanding lightly in between. If a person is only going to do one, there's no need to sand afterwards, right?