Anyone who knows me knows I’m a virtually constant reader.
The only time you’ll catch me without a book on my person is when I decide to carry a bag NOT the size of a small aquarium. Although I have been known to ditch my wallet and just carry the necessary cards so I can fit whatever novel I’m working on in my clutch. A girl’s gotta have priorities.
This has become especially true since moving to the city. What with my three-train commute and the difficulty of meeting up with friends at the exact agreed upon time (Ok, I’m always 15 minutes early. Deal with it.), I find myself with a lot of time to kill, and I’m more than happy to do that with a book.
But while I’ll whole-heartedly claim the bookworm title, there are times when I find myself with nothing to do but wait and I can’t bring myself to pull out my book.
Usually this happens when some part of my life has become a bit volatile and I just have too much on my mind to give Vonnegut my full attention. So instead I’ll just stare into the littered abyss that is the subway track and let my mind wander. A little down time never hurt anyone, right?