I have to laugh when I read the title of this post, but that is exactly how I feel. I cannot believe that I made time for a good read in my mentally insane life. I should start by saying that I didn't read anything too challenging. I think I will leave Atlas Shrugged or War and Peace for another decade. I read part 2 of a... (wait for it...)
Werewolf series - LMAO! I know, I know... but if I was going to finish a book, it better be interesting. I am not saying that more difficult, deeper fiction is not interesting. It is just that I get enough complexity out of my day to day life (and The Real Housewives of New Jersey - man, they will keep you sane!), I don't need any extra. I need to add, I think I finished the book so quickly because it was number two in a series. I was already familiar with the characters and their highschool love struggle between girl meets wolf, wolf turns into insanely cute and tormented boy... Just change werewolf to vampire, and hellooooo, Cullen clan!
Anyway, I breezed through it between work, school, Margo, Edith and Agnes (didn't you know I renamed my kids?
You have to see Despicable Me to appreciate it) and don't forget Mr. Diet Coke. I am super proud of myself for taking a little moment of time for myself and hoarding it. I think I may have also been motivated to finish it quickly because the book was lent to me by a lovely friend and it was due back at the library this week. I couldn't be late, but I also can't check anything else out on my own card - my children have contributed to the delinquency of their mother. They have lost two books I checked out and now I owe $60 to the library. Yeah, you read that right. I could have bought them those stupid books 4 times over. Oh, well, do you think the library will report me to the credit bureaus????
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