An Awful Lot Like a Reader

Right up until I sat down to write, the exciting part of my Friday night was going to involve deciding which book to read next. I have never felt so cool and un-cool...simultaneously. I know. I know. I'm a non-reader. Historically speaking anyway. I proudly told all of my graduate school professors (It might have even been in my application essay) that I don't read. Unless it's assigned (and much of that was a BEATING and undertaken begrudgingly). Yeah, I gave up TV over the summer in favor of reading, bought a Kindle this fall, AND this makes my second blog in barely a month about books, but I often still really, really feel like the non-reader I have long professed to be.

I stayed up an extra half hour to finish a book last night. I'm not presenting that as evidence that I'm now a reader. I'm merely stating a fact. I could have turned out the light with fifteen pages to go. Could have. Somehow, though, it would have felt unfinished. Because it would have been unfinished. And I told myself - using some twisted reader-like wisdom - that I could spend my Friday night choosing and starting my next book. Like it was a good thing.

What?!?

I know. I know. I sound an awful lot like a reader. Either that or I suffer from a woefully small number of Friday night options. It's true. I don't have much in my life. Not on Friday nights, not on any nights. Right now there's a bowl game playing on the TV behind me. The dog is sleeping. I've already eaten dinner. I worked out this morning. I don't drink. And I'm broke (My constant state of financial being because all of my disposable income goes into my travel fund). I suppose I could watch a movie (Netflix and Amazon Prime are paid for), but I always spend more time trying to decide on a movie than I do watching the movie. Laundry? Yep. On going as we speak.

So yeah, what to do? Write. Yes. Thank. You. Jesus. I can turn my frown upside down - so to speak - and write about choosing a book rather than actually choosing a book. It's genius. I get to keep my street-cred as non-reader and post a blog (quality of said blog notwithstanding). That, my friends, is a win-win.

Regardless of who wins what, sooner or later, I'm going to have to decide on a book. Because I do read. Every night. And sometimes in the morning before work. I have three unfinished books (two e-books and one paperback) that I could (should?) finish. But...meh. Just meh. If I'm not into it, I'm not into it. One of the books is an entirely too vanilla lesbian romance (The story line has zero drama and I can't quite find the story arc), another is arty novel about adultery (I thought I could do it...but surprisingly it hits a bit too close to home...and I fear I have a touch of PTSD), and the third, one of my all-time favorite books, is best savored, at least by me, in small doses. None are lighting my fire at the moment.

And so here we are. Once I close out this blog, I'll have no choice. I'll have to choose a book. On a Friday night. It's not as if I'm starting from scratch. I've got recommendations. Lots of them. Friends give me reading lists. My sister suggested a book that sounds decent the last time I visited. I have a veritable plethora to choose from. I suppose that's part of the problem. Kind of like when I attempt to find a movie. I get option paralysis then never actually make a decision. Of course, I've proven that I can read multiple books at once (I recently had three going at one time. See my blog "Three Books, One Friends' Shelf, and a Nifty Story Idea" for details) so... Do I really have to choose? Like narrow it down to just one?

What?!?

I know. I know. I sound an awful lot like a reader. Where'd that non-reader street-cred go? [searches floor blindly in the dark finding nothing] I swear it was just here a minute ago.

Alright, here I go. Cool quotient and sanity in question. Street-cred nowhere to be found. Checking my reading list and checking it twice...

And the verdict is...

Hang on a minute. It's time to fold laundry.