That doesn't happen very often, especially over the past four months, but there ya go.
I walked around this cute little town this afternoon, bought a big sexy suspense novel and set outside on the deck to read a few pages.
Then I went downstairs to my suite (it even has a suana-what can I say?) and read some more.
Four hours later I finished the book. I didn't know if I could ever do that again.
I am a crazy speed reader. It's a talent, but not something I could make money on like tap dancing or archery.
Anyway, I haven't been able to finish a book in well, you know how long.
Not the multiple grief books I've ordered, not the bios and not even my beloved New Yorker magazine.
But today I did.
I'm sure for every two steps I take forward, I will fall one behind, but that's fine. I know the road I'm heading is going to be filled with bumps and wrong turns, but it's the little things that make me happy.
And I desperately want to be happy again because for almost 40 years- bumps, wrong-turns and all- I was happy.
No comments:
Post a Comment