I randomly set a goal of reading 30 books in the year 2011 on the website Goodreads. I was reminded of this goal with a notification that I am significantly behind the pace.
Now, in years past (read: most of my life), reading only 30 books in a year would seem a defeat. I don’t have hard numbers on how many books I read growing up, but it was many, many books. That was a perk of being homeschooled, having an awesome public library, and an amazing home library. In college, I still read a lot, but less fun reading (obviously) due to different assignments and schedules. Then I graduated from college. And somewhere between finishing college and now, I lost some of my ability to concentrate on a book and want to read it.
If my younger self could read me say that, she would have a panic attack. Fortunately, I’m vaguely at peace with this stage of my life in which I have a great many things to do which make me very exhausted. And reading isn’t always the relaxing time it once was for me. It will come back, I’m sure, but for now it’s on a vacation. Let’s face it, sometimes watching a tv show on Netflix is easier for my emotionally exhausted brain and physically exhausted body. There’s more to my interest in tv than just exhaustion, but that’s for another day.
Nevertheless, I am 13 books away from my goal. I’ve probably read more that 17 that Goodreads has kept track of, but I’ve forgotten those. I also sometimes read books-worth of material on blogs or news articles, but those are not books. So, here’s to trying to complete my goal in spite of my current ennui in regards to reading.
I didn’t get as much reading done this week as I had hoped, thanks to stomach bugs and family time. However, there are only 13 working days (10 school days) between here and Christmas break, so there is still time.
I’m nothing but optimistic. If not also cynical.