Tuesday, September 30, 2008
I'm very proud of myself. I completed everything on my "to-do" list for the day, including cleaning the fish tank and going for a run. I even completed things not on the list for today.
So I am rewarding myself with a little time to blog.
I am also taking a break from the slurry of posts on reality TV to revel on a true love: books.
I love reading. However, I have a very different attitude about reading than some of my family. I read rather silly books, usually light hearted adventure novels. My dad only reads serious philosophical works or historical non-fictions. What is more important? That we read serious books, or simply that we read? I stand firmly behind the second opinion.
For the first several years of my marriage, I never saw my husband read a book for pleasure. He read plenty of textbooks, but he admitted he had never read for fun, and had not read a novel since high school. However, after much coercion, I started him on the Harry Potter series. Since that moment four years ago, he has read a book at night almost every day. Admittedly, it is usually still Harry Potter, but I love to see him read so much, that I don't say, "Haven't you read that four times already?" (Since I have too, and don't want to draw attention to that fact.)
I read non-school related material purely for fun. If I'm not enjoying reading it, and I don't real relaxed after reading, I really don't have the time to waste on it at the current moment. It doesn't need to make me think (I am required to do plenty of that for real at work). I read for one purpose: escapism. I find I actually sleep better after a dose of "brain candy" before bedtime.
I think everyone would.