vainglorious

I used to be addicted to the internet. But I got a lame job and I picked up a new addiction: reading very long books, well… and I’m a bit too into Twitter/my iPhone. When I was unemployed, I felt I had to constantly be online job searching and I get distracted very easily so spent the majority of my time playing on Tumblr and numerous blogs. I spent so much time on my laptop that my boyfriend began to feel jealous of my affection for my sweet, sweet broadband connection. I’m glad I’ve stopped being so obsessed but I sort of miss it. The problem is though I’ve tunneled that obsession into books, which seems good I guess but I don’t read literary books, I read brain candy. The Twilight series is actually what got me reading constantly again. So sue me.

Anyways, my book quirks. I feel a sense of loss everytime I finish a really good book. When I can tell that I’m getting to the end of the story, I slow down, hoping to savor those last few pages of these characters whose lives have come to life in my mind. This was the way I felt as a little girl, I would devour books then be annoyed when they finished. Even if the end was satisfying, I felt cheated, “that’s it?” I’m always searching for 700-plus pages books to keep me going for days or even weeks.

So it is lovely that actually getting a full-time job has allowed me the freedom to read again because while my time is limited, I’d much rather spend that time in someone’s world other than my boring one. I fear I’ll go back especially as I am now job searching voraciously again. I’m not unhappy, I’m just unchallenged and well, I’ve learned nothing from Joan Holloway — I despise being someone’s assistant. I just wanna play outside and not have to maintain a totes complex filing system (yeah right).