"Welcome to the English major.
You will read about 800 pages in the space of a week. Go."
That's not really what my professors said, but it feels like it.
If I were about 12 years old, this wouldn't be out of the ordinary; I'd probably eat it up! And at first, I did. But sitting inside staring at a computer screen quickly turned me into a zombie. I would like to tell my roommates and their boyfriends that I'm not just a lazy bum when they walk in the door and I'm in the same spot they left me 6 hours ago.
I was so sick of reading the assigned stuff [not that i didn't like it, i was just in a bad mood] that I picked up my roommates copy of The Time Traveler's Wife. I did something last night that I haven't done in at least two years. At 8:00 p.m., I started reading, and closed the book 5:00 a.m. When I did this as a kid, I'd get grounded from books. Now, I have no one to punish me except for myself; which I'm sure will happen when I start dozing off in the next couple of hours.
Can I be honest? I didn't enjoy it as much as I wanted to. Maybe a different book choice would have made this a more gratifying experience [there were far too many swear words and sexy scenes for my liking]. So why did I continue? My reasoning went something like this:
- Love the movie
- At least this is something I have picked
- Can't stop now...