It's true people. I have a real problem here. My addiction has taken over my life once again. Everything takes a backseat to it. Sleeping, eating, cleaning, socializing, my cat, everything. What, you may ask, is this insane addiction that I have that takes over my other responsibilities and priorities? Sadly, it's a good book. I just can't stop. I would be so happy if I could use Willy Wonka's giant chocolate bar making machine and blow the book up to gigantor size, cut out a little hole in the middle, and curl up inside of it. When I die, will someone please make sure that my coffin is in the shape of a book? Okay, never mind. That's taking it a little too far. See...it's the addiction speaking, not me.
It's just the only thing I want to do...read. It's the only thing I want to talk about..."Let me tell you about this book I'm reading...blah...blah...blah." It keeps me awake at night because I can (and have before) stayed up until the dawn reading. If it's a really good book, it won't put me to sleep. I have to put it down so that I can go to sleep.
My poor kitty. She just follows me around meowing and staring at me. She gets this glowering look on her face when she sees me yet again with...The Book. Then I try my hardest to tell her that I only have 143 pages to go and if she would just leave me alone I will feed her when I'm done...3 hours later. No, no. I'm just kidding. I would never do that to my precious angel. She has a self feeder and a self waterer for a reason. I know how forgetful I can be at times and she shouldn't have to suffer.
Okay, but my apartment is a disaster. That is the truth. I'm a little embarrassed to even describe it to you, but lets just say that you can tell the places that I have been sitting and reading (my chair) because they are surrounded by...uh...stuff, and you can tell the places that I haven't been sitting (my couch) because they have stuff all over them.
And then, the worst part of my addiction is when I come down off my high...finishing the book. I get depressed in varying degrees depending on how much I got into it. Right now, I'm just slightly despondent. Sometimes though, it's so bad that I don't want to watch TV, read anything else, or even listen to someone tell a story because I know it will draw my attention away from the book I just read and I am still in mourning for a story that has ended.
Oh, this is so pathetic. Is anyone else out there like this? Has anyone else ever spent days in bed just so they could read? Has anyone else ever skipped showers, meals, even bathroom breaks so they could just finish one more chapter? Has anyone ever slept with a book so that you could read until you fell asleep and then start reading again the minute you wake up?
National Nerd Day isn't until May 25th, but I think I'm celebrating a little early this year.
And just so you all know, I am THE MOST unreliable person when I have a good book in my hands. But I am finished now so things should start looking up tomorrow.
Just so you know, because I'm sure you are wondering what book I just finished reading, it was The Host by Stephenie Meyer. Now, it wasn't the best book I've ever read, but it was pretty dang good...I'm just sayin'.