New habits are hard, the internet killed my attention span, I never moved on past YA fiction, blah, blah, blah. I’ve made attempts to mentally storyboard what led me to not read much outside of textbooks in college (biggest regret/makes me feel dumbest today) but pinpointing the set of reasons leaves me feeling somewhere between these two situations:
I read lots of “short-form non-fiction,” which was the shame-free name I used for vapid internet sites. I did and did and did the Big 10 Barhopping. Mostly I was too social to read, not just in terms of time spent out but in that social-everything occupied my extra mental space. There’s no good way to be sure if I did the Right Thing for me at the time. Wondering if it was that or if I was pitifully thoughtless about what I was doing is moot since I can’t re-do anything and see what outcome I prefer. There is no big revelation here. I’m reading more. And, photographing it when a cute dog comes to hang out with me during.
Past 25 