As summer mellows into autumn, I’ve begun to re-discover my love for the little joys of life. And I’ve realised that reading should enrich my life, and not be something I’m “burdened” with. It’s why I’ve done away with all my monthly reading lists. That lost element of whimsy and adventure was what I’d missed most in my reading. Unfortunately, my rather heavily humanities-based subjects require equally heavy amounts of reading, so I’ve had to put a halt to all personal reading. Sort of, anyway.
Has anyone noticed how bad I am at keeping resolutions? Just four days ago, I told myself that I would sacrifice reading for my studies, and yet I’m getting through two and a half books at the moment (as well as putting up polls on what I should read next).
It’s been a while since I finished The Picture of Dorian Gray, which I enjoyed immensely while I was meant to be doing readings for Politics and History. Sort of began Gaskell’s North and South, but unsure if I want to commit to it. And I’m reading Gone with the Wind and George Orwell’s Essays alongside everything else. Not satisfied, though. I’d really like to sink my teeth properly into just one book. Half the problem is that there are simply too many books to pick from. I’m willing to read all of them eventually; I just can’t decide which to start with.
Ugh, I’d better get back to my assignments.