Your monthly fuzzy picture of my nightstand, inspired by Jenelle Schmidt and D J Edwardson!
I had planned on doing stuff with my life today. Useful stuff. I had to write an e-mail. I wanted to go jogging. And there's this new thing called, you know. School.
But I had books on hold at the library, so I got them first, naturally, because I'm not crazy. And one of them was Dear Mr. Knightley, by Katherine Reay.
At two o'clock this afternoon, I thought I would read the first few pages to see if I liked it. At four o'clock this afternoon, I admitted to myself that I was still reading and put on my jogging clothes as motivation to wrap it up.
It's six o'clock in the evening. I did not write that e-mail. I did not go jogging, nor did I change out of my jogging clothes. I did finish the book, though. It was just that good.
Curse you, Mrs. Reay!
I'm also reading Le Morte d'Arthur, by Sir Thomas Malory, and rereading The Fellowship of the Ring, by J. R. R. Tolkien, and The Sorcerer's Stone, by J. K. Rowling. And there's a book for my super-secret plans for next spring. It's titled Ireland for Dummies. You can probably guess what my super-secret plans are... Oh, and I have The Oxford Book of Ballads for a project I'm working on, and a new Bible for a pre-confirmation course I'm taking this year. Yeah...
I realize I sound totally apathetic. I'm sort of brain-dead right now. Blame it on Dear Mr. Knightley. It was just that good.
I guess I'll write that e-mail now....