Reading has long been a favorite past time of mine. As a child, I used to actually set my alarm for 2:30 in the morning so I could finish devouring my latest Nancy Drew novel after bedtime without my mom catching me. I have long wished to invent a waterproof book so I could read in the bathtub without getting the edges all wet when I have to turn the pages, and I have actually tried to read while blowdrying my hair. I read in the car, too, (not while driving, of course) even though the chances are decent that I'll end up getting all queasy for about an hour.
Experience has dictated that I not allow myself to read for pleasure during any semester of school work. As any member of my family can tell you, I am essentially useless to the outside world until the book is finished. Understand that if my personal hygiene can acutally suffer during the course of a good read, a research paper is not likely to get any attention.
Luckily for me, I have officially finished the coursework for the last official class I will ever take. (Can you imagine anything more awful than working on a PhD? I can't. Bleh.) It took about 5 minutes after my class ended for me to run to the charming neighborhood library and stock up. (Which meant that I finally had to pay the somewhat expensive fines I had racked up over Christmas break. I finish the books, and forget to take them back for weeks on end. Even the threat of monetary reprimands cannot prod my memory into remembering to return them.)
Then we moved away from that charming neighborhood library--not that I'm complaining and also I took their books back first and without fines this time--and I started working full time.
Introduce the delightful 'Project Gutenburg' link (thanks, Wendy) on the right. While this does not solve the bathtub problem (using a lap top in the tub is a decidedly more risky endeavor than reading a book, what with the high replacement cost and electrocution risks and all) but it does help keep me entertained while covering the front desk. Now I've been able to reread Jane Eyre for the first time since 8th grade and am just starting into Nicholas Nickleby. There's nothing like a little bit of Dickens to remind myself that the good orphans of the world always end up on top.
All of this while reading some wonderfully mindless Mary Higgins Clark mysteries at home and the second Harry Potter out loud at night makes for a perfectly happy little ol' me. Except for that irritating Gilderoy Lockhart. Grrr.
PS- Oh, and the artist of those cool Golden Gate bridge paintings emailed me back. Come visit the condo in a week or two to see one.