I often think of the Mad Hatter’s friendship with Time, and how he is perpetually stuck at tea. I think about Time and I wonder what he is doing with all my reading time?
I used to live about an hour away from everything via public transit. This distance meant that I would have about two hours every day exclusively for reading (and travel, of course). I would tear through books at lightening speed, because whenever I was on the train I’d have my book.
I recently moved, cutting my commute time in half. Not only that, but a lot of that time is just me walking, meaning I can’t be reading at the same time. While the new location is convenient, I find myself missing my train reading time. I had to go back to the old neighborhood today, and I found myself actually excited for the long ride.
I’ve had to find new times to get my read on, since I get grumpy and lethargic if I don’t. When I’m sleeping alone, I read before bed, but that can be problematic. I rarely can read myself to sleep, and often I suddenly realize that half the night has passed. I started reading Room by Emma Donoghue at 10:00 at night, and I was finished by 10:00 the following morning. So bedtime, the time that so many readers use for their hobby, is not the best time for me.
I’m also a morning person, so if I wake up too early (I know…that’s ridiculous, but it happens), I go to my reading nook and read by lamplight.
I also utilize this space throughout the day if I find myself drowning in meaningless activities (mainly involving the Internet). It’s everything I love about coffee shops in the comfort of my own home. It gives me an excuse to read, which I sometimes need when my brain is frying on Netflix.
I got my full two hours of reading today during the commute, and it felt so good.