Daily Grind :: Too Many Books & Not Enough Time

My wife and I often reminisce about our life before we had children. We especially enjoy talking about our weekends pre-kids. A time when sleeping until noon was not out of the question, and oftentimes was our preference. A golden-age when time turned to honey in the peace of our apartment; the only sound, the turning of pages as we read our books. It was a magical era when we had both the time and quiet on our side. Sentences were suckled, plot twists were savored and final pages were read and re-read. It was a beautiful thing...while it lasted. 

Now, we have two kids who can best be labeled as "busy". That's what most people say after they babysit them. Their hair is usually sticking out awkwardly in one direction, their eyes are blinky and twitchy as they say something kind like, "Your kids are really...busy." They are energetic. They are talkative. They are funny. I love them. But - they never shut up. I'd say I wouldn't trade them for anything in the world, but eight straight hours of quiet sounds very good to me.

If I could reach into my wife's body and steal anything from her, it would be her ability to read through anything. She has a singular focus that amazes me. If a fire alarm went off as she read the climax to a Nora Robert's book; the next thing I'd be reading would be her eulogy. I can't do that. I have to have complete silence. No music. No ticking clocks. Even rain puts me to sleep or makes me have to pee...or both...hopefully not in that order.

The only time it's quiet in my house now is when everyone except me is asleep. Combine the lack of quality reading time with the fact I'm a slow reader, and you get the reason why the list of books I have read this year is an arm's length shorter than the list of books I want to read. I have a stack of books on my nightstand, a list of books in my Amazon cart, queued eBooks in my OverDrive account and books on hold at the library. Also, Ventipop readers seem to love the book posts more than any of the others I publish. So, I keep discovering more & more books I want to read. Once you grow up and have a family and kids and responsibilities, there are just too many books and not enough time. My kids ask me if I'm afraid of dying. I'n not afraid of dying. However, I am afraid of dying before getting the chance to read all these damn books.


ventipop-stephen-king





...The Last Drop

The Ostrich Pillow is the only way I can recreate my pre-kids apartment environment: