Since the summer of 2009, I've keep a record of the books I've read, creatively calling my spreadsheet "Books Read List." The other day, after finishing Sam Campbell's "Eeny, Meeny, Miney, Mo -- and Still-Mo" I opened my spreadsheet to document my completed book. The sight that greeted my eyes was dismal, to say the least. And here's why: since getting back from Tanzania at the end of April, I have only read four complete books. FOUR! In more than four months! That is disturbing, despairaging (a good word for this situation), and despicable! And you want to hear the really, really ugly news? (You probably don't, but I'm going to tell you anyway.) I read only one full book between returning from Africa and my wedding on August 1. The only other book I attempted to read before the wedding was started on May 3, but not completed until August 16. I feel like a failure of a reader...and this from a self-proclaimed readaholic!
On the brighter side of this appalling realization, since returning from my honeymoon, I've read three books and started two others (which I have yet to finish and probably won't for awhile since they belonged to someone else and I just picked them up to look at while camping -- hopefully I can get to a library sometime soon to check them out and finish them). Those statistics are starting to sound a little better, right? Phew! Can't wait to get fully back into my readaholic ways. :)