I don’t read a whole lot these days. Time was (like, maybe, middle school), you could always find me with a book…though I wasn’t as well-read as some of the other geeks. But the reading just sort of dropped off.
I started up again, sort of, after getting married; I reread, for example, the Anne of Green Gables series, and I tried to read the Lord of the Rings series (I managed through the first one, then stalled at the beginning of the second), and I reread the Johnny Maxwell Trilogy (the first one is the best), and I even finished reading some new things, The Time Traveller’s Wife and the Harry Potter series.
But I’m not always reading, and lately it has occurred to me why that is.
You see, I’m rereading the Harry Potter books, and they are all I can think about.
It’s gotten a little warm. Maybe I should go biking. But no, I’m almost finished with this chapter. I’ll just read a little more.
Oh, it’s dark now, guess I can’t go riding. I should probably figure out what I’m having for dinner, and stop snacking.
Hmm, Sean’s home and I haven’t worked out dinner yet. Oh well, I can’t stop reading now.
Okay, fine, I’m cooking. I’ll take a little break to check my Bloglines and the AMRN while I’m eating. …no, never mind, scratch that, I’m going to eat my fajitas on the couch while I’m reading.
Damn, it’s getting late. Let me shut down the computer and go to bed. Okay, here are my clothes for tomorrow. I’ll just bring the book in here and read a couple chapters before I go to sleep.
Oh, hmm. I don’t want to stop reading, but at this rate I will only get about five hours of sleep. And here’s a section ending. I will stop here. I will stop here!
Ugh…I can’t get up now. I’ll just snooze until 20 minutes before I have to leave, and skip the shower this morning.
Bleh, why didn’t I bring the book to work? I’m sooooooooo boooooooooored.
I get a little too caught up, don’t I?
The bad thing is, I know what’s coming. When I get to the end of Book Five, that’ll be it. I’ll be done with Harry Potter until July (or until I reread them again). Wrenching myself back out of an imagined world is far more difficult than falling into it; just look how hard it was for me to put the book down long enough to sleep! But once there is literally nothing left for me to read, it will be far worse.
It will be like being in mourning.