But it's very important for me to know that YOU know that I continued reading for the rest of Saturday and deep into the night, and aaaaalmost made it for 24 hours. My undoing was the moment when I thought it would be OK to go from the couch to the bed, where I read about 10 pages and promptly fell asleep with a book on my face. But even though I had to reread those 10 pages the next day because I didn't remember their content even a little, I'm still counting them. And you can't stop me.
Here's the thing: I feel like I read a lot . . . but I finished only two books. And I had already started both of those books at an earlier date. Which leads me to wonder—WHAT THE HELL WAS I DOING ALL DAY?
It started out so well. I woke up at 5 a.m. full of ambition.
 |
| So many plans. |
Things went downhill after I took a shower. SOME people find a nice shower invigorating and rejuvenating, but they tend to make me want to sleeeeeeeeep. So I read a bit of The Graveyard Book, made an emergency cup of coffee when I felt myself starting to fade, drank about two sips of that coffee . . . and passed out in the middle of the floor for almost 2 hours.
And then there was a lot of scrolling through the #readathon tag on Instagram and Twitter. A lot of that. And also rolling around on the floor with two doggies who had squeaky toys they were very proud to show off. And snacking. Sometimes that requires both hands.
So all told, I read 520 pages in three books, two of which I finished. My greatest accomplishment of the day was finishing House of Leaves, which my brother gave me for Christmas and which I began reading in JANUARY. That book. That book has been my arch nemesis this year. But I stabbed it right in its papery heart and vanquished it once and for all.
And Sunday?
