I had forgotten the feeling…

…maybe because I’m mostly a non-fiction reader, or that when I do make the leap to fiction I tend to reach for more literary tomes, but right now I’m about 20% into a really fun entertaining exciting novel and it’s affecting everything I’m doing instead of reading more of it. The commute was too short. I didn’t take a long enough lunch. I’m going to read it all the way home and then never get to my laundry tonight because there are 326 pages left and I’m not going to be able to stop and then it’ll be over and something so powerful and prominent in one day of my life won’t be there the next and I’ll be looking to fill that void, or forget about it.

I used to dream in middle school (and some of high school) and when it wasn’t about girls it was about books. The idea of being able to watch movies and tv and videos on a screen in my pocket was ten years away but I fantasied that I’d be able to close my eyes and read (where my eyelids would be) the book I was in the middle of at the time. Nothing was more painful than putting away my book when class was starting and I’d sit there bored, occasionally reading from my lap, under the desk, wishing I could close my eyes and get back to the story.