Eyes wanting to fall asleep while reading a good book feels like a betrayal.
I wish I didn’t get so sleepy while reading in bed.
I’ve just started reading The Overstory and oh my goodness I cannot put it down. Such a great book! Beautiful subject matter, beautifully written. Can’t get enough.
Tonight I planned to read over my essay and touch it up before submitting it, as well as finishing David Copperfield. So far I have done none of those things.
But it’s okay – it’s more important to be spending time with friends who are going away for a while, than to be writing essays and studying for tests. Doesn’t make me feel less stressed about it though!
David Copperfield isn’t as difficult a read as I thought it would be. I always imagined (imagined because I never actually tested it out) that Dickens would be a hard read but I’m finding myself enjoy it and there are bits which make me laugh out loud. I’m delightfully surprised.
Damn, meant to finish David Copperfield this weekend and am not even close.
Quite daunting to think about all the reading that I have to do for my classes. It’s good though, satisfying when done.
One of my favourite things to do will forever be sitting in a cafe with a decent flat white, reading a book or scribbling away.
At the start of the year, two of my friends and I came up with some personal goals each to do. Mine were mostly around writing, and how I want to do more of it this year. I need to take this more seriously if I want to get better!
I always thought that creative outputs had to be the product of some frenzied state- organic in the way they come about and without focused effort. I imagined that art bursts and forces its way out of people when it wants to, and that anything less than this was contrived and not truly art. Now I know and understand art forms to be a refined skill. True, some people are born with a natural affinity towards certain art forms but to be great at these, they need to hone their abilities.
Maybe this year I’ll set aside more time for sitting in cafes and writing something, anything, to get these creative juices flowing.
I rediscovered my Goodreads account today. It was dismal.
I was last active on it in 2013 which was also probably the time that I set up an account and decided to (ambitiously) add all the books I had ever read. I must have realised part way through that that is a shit tonne of books to add, and couldn’t be fucked doing anymore beyond age 6. Imagine if a child had a Goodreads account and the books that would be on those shelves – Roald Dahl, Jacqueline Wilson, etc, etc – this is what my account looked like.
So, I came home tonight after work and did an overhaul and added all the books I had read this year so as to make it seem more like I was the adult that I am. Then I connected my account to Facebook so I could add friends to my account but unbeknownst to me, that meant adding every man and his dog so now I’m connected with people I’m friends with on Facebook who I have nay spoken to in years… HELLO MARC FROM HIGH SCHOOL WHO I HAVEN’T SEEN IN 10 YEARS, WHATCHU READING THESE DAYS.
The internet is hard.
Some really satisfying things I did today:
- Marking a reminder as “Complete” on my phone which has, up to this point, been a glaring red dot for the past 8 months
- Sending a Christmas card to Canada
- Lying on my parents’ couch and reading my new Julian Barnes book (MORE ON THIS LATER, IT’S SO GOOD OMG) in the sun while my mum cooks me dinner
- Writing excel formulas that do what I want them to do