In recent news: A look into the past few weeks’ work log shows that once again, the principle citizen of Hafsaville has fallen behind on coursework. On second thoughts, I don’t think that qualifies as news anymore. 😀
Talking about things less monotonous, I’m re-reading To Kill A Mocking Bird and if you need me, look in dark corners and under beds, where you may find me curled up with book in hand, unresponsive to your calls. Apparently it runs in the family; my grandma let the cat out of the bag when she said mum had had the same tendency too. Well, I’m re-reading it now and it struck me that it’s been some time since I actually sat down to read; with the usual headache-inducing and chore-neglecting intensity I cannot tone down for the life of me once I’m into a book, never mind it being even readable. Or the fact that paper and ink people seem more real to me than those I’m having dinner with for a good 24 hours after I’m done and again, more often than not, there’s that sickening daze you fall into if the book you were reading was just attention-grabbing nonsense strung together. Why do I love reading again? Maybe because once in a while, you finish a good book and there is no daze. Just over-enthusiastic recommendations from your side to every person of your acquaintance you can remember holding a book 😀
Well, there are chores to be done now and I’d better be off.