Okay, I'm just going to say it: I'm bored. If I were about fifteen years younger, I would fear saying that out loud because I'd probably be told to clean something. Not that our apartment couldn't use a little, um, help, but today is my day off. And somewhere along the line I invented the plan of doing "something fun" on my days off.

Today has been kind of a drag. Which means, tomorrow better rock or I'll be going back to work on Wednesday in the same bad mood I left with yesterday.

My job really isn't that bad. I swear.

Today I felt like I was busy for a good portion of the day, but when my mom asked me on the phone what I'd done, I couldn't come up with anything. The truth is, at one point this morning I was sitting on my living room floor at the coffee table with a bottle of Elmer's glue, a 64-pack of crayolas, a stack of loose leaf paper, and a pair of scissors. Draw your own conclusion. (Bear in mind, the only two children I know are roughly 2000 miles away.)

I don't understand how I can love reading so much, have so many books I haven't read, and still have times when I don't want to read anything I own. It's very similar to the "I have nothing to wear" problem. I want something new. Something I've never touched before. These other books? I think some of them have missed their window of ever being read.

Labels: books.

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