Good Lord, Jen, did a library explode on your kitchen island?
As a matter of fact, it did. The floor is just littered with small pieces of paper and other library-ish detrius. It’s a mess, I tell ya.
What you are gazing upon here is the stack of reading I have scattered all about the house…unstacked for your horrified pleasure. True schadenfreude. I gathered this from three different rooms on two different floors of the house. This is just the unread stuff. Magazines (and one showed up in the mail after I took this picture), online newsletters I’ve printed off to read, books of all sorts. Books on giftedness. Books on twice-exceptionalities. Books on kids and anxiety. Books on spirited children. Books on sensory processing disorder. Books on figuring out what I want to do with my life (God, I’d love to figure that out). And only three pieces of fiction. Oh, and I have eight books on my wish list at the library.
This weighs heavily on me. I love to read, always have. But having all this staring at me is intimidating, especially when I’m so busy doing other stuff. I’d rather be reading. And when I finally have a chance to read, I’m too sleepy to do much more than page through a magazine. Finding time to read and concentrate on what I’m reading is the biggest hurdle. I certainly don’t have an issue finding things to read. I’ve lost count of how many books I’ve returned to the library unread.
Now excuse me, my friends. A thunderstorm is blowing up and I think that’s a good reason to shut down the computer and read. Or…yawn…thumb through a magazine.