December 6, 2006
By Sarah Young
I think I’m losing it. Last night I yelled at my husband because the dog decided to puke all over the house (totally not his fault). I then yelled at my poor sick dog because the kitchen wasn’t clean and I couldn’t cook dinner (again, not his fault). I guess I just needed a couple of scapegoats to release my fury on. I later apologized and decided to go to bed early and curl up with one the 15 books I am currently reading.
I glanced over at the books spilling out of my nightstand and occupying much of the floor space next to the bed and began to feel overwhelmed again. Some of the books are for review, some for leisure, but all are in various stages of completion. I even attempted to finish a couple of them on my recent Thanksgiving trip to Las Vegas, but to no avail. I instead decided to busy myself on the plane with tunes from my iPod and the latest Hammacher Schlemmer catalog. Talk about productive. How have I survived this long without a cat hammock?
I don’t know what my problem is. Reading used to be such a stress reliever, now it seems to be the source of my insanity. Lately, I have been breaking into a cold sweat when I try to decide which book to read. What a crazy thing to get all worked up about, but it is starting to become a serious problem. I just can’t seem to finish any of them and the pile of books seems to be getting bigger and bigger. The ones I haven’t even started yet are starting to haunt me as well. I had a dream the other night that a pack of rabid books was chasing me through the mall and I had to find a golden sword to save some princess. It was very Macaulay Culkin in The Pagemaster, with hints of Zelda mixed in. Anyone with a degree in psychology want to tell me what that means?
Am I burned out on reading? When I was 18 I decided I didn’t want to pursue swimming in college because I had been swimming every day, twice a day, since I was 8 years old. Have I reached the end of my love affair with reading? I have been reading since a very young age, but surely that can’t be it. Maybe, I’m just not reading the right books? Any suggestions? Please help.
Comments
Posted by Jeff_Roedel on December 6 at 3:37 p.m.
Maybe take a couple days off, then go back to one or two of your favorite books as a kid. The books that made you love literature in the first place. Then I'd recommend Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer. That's the best novel I've read in a long time.
Posted by sarah on December 6 at 4:29 p.m.
That's a great idea. I will have to try that and then check out your recommendation. Thanks for the help.
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