Since two-thirds of my regular readers have asked this question, here’s an answer.
I read all the time. It’s true and it’s no doubt to my detriment. The only times I ever got in trouble at school, it was for reading when I should’ve been paying attention to the teacher instead (2nd grade – Mrs. Duggins; 6th grade – Mrs. Thurman). If I didn’t read so much, my house would be much cleaner and my kids would have up-to-date photo albums. If I didn’t read so much, I’d probably be in much better shape physically and I would have completed the redecoration of my house. People say that life is the thing, but I prefer reading. (Somebody else said that, but I believe it!)
Specifically. I read while I brush my teeth. I read while I blow-dry my hair. I read at red lights (a very bad habit, I know). I read while cooking dinner if the children are otherwise engaged. I read during my lunch hour (panic ensues if I forget to bring a book with me to work – I try to keep a spare magazine in the car for these occasions). I read at doctor’s appointments and in line at the drive-thru and while getting my oil changed. I read during Mallory's gymnastics class (although I have to glance up frequently because if she catches me not watching her she comes over to tap on the glass to get my attention; I'm sure her teacher loves that.) In graduate school I took the bus to campus every day and I loved it – 30 minutes with nothing else to do but read! As I recall, I brought a book to my wedding just in case there was down-time. So essentially – if I have a spare moment, I read. Mostly, though, I read at night after I put the kids to bed, even though every night while the kids are falling asleep I’m thinking to myself that I should, instead, clean the kitchen or iron some shirts or pay some bills or, you know, have a conversation with my husband. It’s a bit of an illness, really.
I feel compelled to point out that although I read constantly, I also read sloppily. I very rarely remember much of what I read. I love mysteries, but I am almost always incapable of guessing who-dun-it because I don’t read carefully and I miss all the clues. You’d think that with everything I’ve read, I’d be this vast storehouse of knowledge and quotes and so forth. But I’m really not. Which I guess makes it all a bit pointless but I don’t care. I will no doubt be reading on my deathbed and I hope that my survivors have the foresight to put some books in my casket. Because you never know – eternity is a long long time and I’d hate to be stuck there without something to read.
I read all the time. It’s true and it’s no doubt to my detriment. The only times I ever got in trouble at school, it was for reading when I should’ve been paying attention to the teacher instead (2nd grade – Mrs. Duggins; 6th grade – Mrs. Thurman). If I didn’t read so much, my house would be much cleaner and my kids would have up-to-date photo albums. If I didn’t read so much, I’d probably be in much better shape physically and I would have completed the redecoration of my house. People say that life is the thing, but I prefer reading. (Somebody else said that, but I believe it!)
Specifically. I read while I brush my teeth. I read while I blow-dry my hair. I read at red lights (a very bad habit, I know). I read while cooking dinner if the children are otherwise engaged. I read during my lunch hour (panic ensues if I forget to bring a book with me to work – I try to keep a spare magazine in the car for these occasions). I read at doctor’s appointments and in line at the drive-thru and while getting my oil changed. I read during Mallory's gymnastics class (although I have to glance up frequently because if she catches me not watching her she comes over to tap on the glass to get my attention; I'm sure her teacher loves that.) In graduate school I took the bus to campus every day and I loved it – 30 minutes with nothing else to do but read! As I recall, I brought a book to my wedding just in case there was down-time. So essentially – if I have a spare moment, I read. Mostly, though, I read at night after I put the kids to bed, even though every night while the kids are falling asleep I’m thinking to myself that I should, instead, clean the kitchen or iron some shirts or pay some bills or, you know, have a conversation with my husband. It’s a bit of an illness, really.
I feel compelled to point out that although I read constantly, I also read sloppily. I very rarely remember much of what I read. I love mysteries, but I am almost always incapable of guessing who-dun-it because I don’t read carefully and I miss all the clues. You’d think that with everything I’ve read, I’d be this vast storehouse of knowledge and quotes and so forth. But I’m really not. Which I guess makes it all a bit pointless but I don’t care. I will no doubt be reading on my deathbed and I hope that my survivors have the foresight to put some books in my casket. Because you never know – eternity is a long long time and I’d hate to be stuck there without something to read.
Comments
I am a sloppy reader too and once I start a book, I can't stop, so I don't read all the time for that reason.
It cracks me up that you read at red lights. And I don't know how you read and blow your hair dry. I've tried that and it is hard!
Mom
I'm with you on the public transportation. I have a 30 min train ride each way to work and LOVE the fact I actually can read a book and not worry about anything else.
I'm sure there is a lot more time that I could be taking advantage of, but I am a house-straightening/cleaning freak and I can't overlook much, although that has changed some since I haven't felt well for about 3 months!
Food for thought though, and thanks for answering my question!
Holly