I love the Library. I do. I really do.
All those beautiful books - that I can take home and read without paying for them. That I can return instead of finding a spot for in my house.
New authors to discover, old authors to revisit. New genres. Fresh takes. Words on pages (pages, NEVER a screen - I am still adamantly against the Kindle and all of its kin), ready to sweep you off to somewhere you've never been.
I love to read. I have ALWAYS loved to read. Ever since my mom taught me at age 3, I have been the proverbial bookworm. Anytime I'm overwhelmed or stressed, I need to lose myself in a good book for a few hours. When I surface, I'm always prepared and ready to take my life back on.
This morning, Jason convinced me to take the day off and enjoy myself. So I ignored the sub calls and went back to sleep. I woke hours later to find Indy snuggled next to me in the bed, bumping my leg with his cone. And I was so happy, I couldn't even be mad about the dog hair in our bed.
There were a million things that I could have and should have been doing today. And I ignored all of them except for laundry. I took Jason's directive very seriously and pushed away my guilt at being "unproductive".
I have a stack of library books that have been waiting for me to dive into. I read two of them today.
Did I mention that I love to read?
Indy and I sat outside in the gorgeous sun for hours (with sunscreen on!), relaxing, and enjoying the beautiful day.
And I am so happy.
Aaaaah. The real world can wait until tomorrow.