I read 30 books this year. Thirty. That is like a marathon runner jogging 2 miles in the boston marathon and calling it quits because they're bored or something. I don't think it's actually like that, but it's my simile, so deal.
My icon should really say "Books hate me" but it doesn't.
In unrelated news, I drove in the worst fog this evening. If there had been a deer in the road, they would have been run over AND I NEVER WOULD HAVE SEEN THEM. That's how bad it was. So bad that someone less skilled and awesome than me drove themselves off a hill. They were fine. I knew this because they were milling on the road, smoking. Well, maybe milling on the road in the middle of Stephen King fog indicates head trauma. They are lucky no zombies were lurking about. Or giant dinosaurs from another dimension.
Back to reading, I don't know what was up with me this year. Actually, I do. I moved. And left behind the best library system in the world for a library that is closed on my weekends (Sundays/Mondays) and makes you pay for interlibrary loans. This library is only open until 5 pm. FIVE. That is when I get off work, so unhelpful. My pool of books winnowed pitifully down to back issues of the local town paper (from 1883 or thereabouts!). <--- If you end a sentenc with parenthetical notations and an exclamation point, does that exclamation point go outside the parenthesis or what?
MINA IS A DONUT SO I MUST GO EAT HER AND S