I’m on vacation here at my Uncle’s bed and breakfast, the Iris Inn, and all week I’d been thinking about the books I would bring and the reading I would do as I relax here among the Blue Ridge Mountains.
I forgot them. All of them.
I literally left my apartment with my suitcase, my Chrome bag, laptop, DSLR, clothes, and everything I would need… except my books.
Why is that I can’t make the time in my life to sit down and enjoy some of the literally hundreds of books on my reading list? There’s so much knowledge there, and so much to learn, yet I constantly find myself consumed with something else. By the time the thought of reading a book enters my mind it’s often one or two A.M. and I’ll read about half a page before I fall asleep with the book on my lap.
Am I the only one with this problem? Here’s hoping I can start making more time for books in my life when I get back to D.C.
