I should be sleeping. The rest of the world is sleeping. I'm awake, watching Criminal Minds reruns. I can't get a deep breath. My eyes won't let me read.
So much time spent wasted, books left unread, books unwritten. My unread books talk to me. Read me, they say. Most of them will be read in due time.
Mama's PT asks me the funniest things about my books, do I ever get rid of them, have I read them all. Those questions tell me she is not a reader. Of course, I haven't read them all, that's not necessarily the point. Sometimes, I want a book just for the cover, or an old book because of an inscription. I like to find bookmarks in old books.
Dear Blog, you have made me sleepy. Thank you so much.
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