In the past month I have read seven books. Yes. Seven. Four weeks, Seven books. I took three with me to India, brought one back with me on the plane, bought three after a few days of being at home, and have since bought three more (the first of which I started reading last night).
Reading is so relaxing to me. I jealously guard my reading time. I know many, many people who don't read at all and I am baffled at the notion of a life without books. For me, disappearing into a good story is the most pleasurable of afternoon pursuits. Waking up to a rainy Saturday puts me in the mood for a cup of tea, some buttery bread, cheese and a thick novel I've been eager to read all week. Do all my rainy Saturdays (or Saturdays in general) turn out like this? Of course not. Life rolls on and there are many things I must accomplish on Saturdays that cannot be accomplished during the week.
Chalk it up to extended jet lag, or just the fact that I've started going into work and hour and a half earlier, but by the time I get home in the afternoons, all I want to do is sit and read. It's odd, really. I'll read until the sun starts to go down and then I get animated once more. I start working, writing, contemplating new designs for my up and coming business.
Then of course, there are those days when all that gets pushed to the side. Those rare days when the story takes over, possess me, and I have no choice but to sit still and turn the pages until I reach "The End".
Have a wonderful weekend!