Maybe the problem is my nightstand, which looks basically like this:
(Okay, truth be told, I don't have a nightstand anymore, because the fact that my nightstand and Jason's didn't match at all was making me totally insane, so I moved it to the basement and got a basket, also known as collection-bin-for-all-kinds-of-crap. But this is a lovely little trunk in my living room, and on top of the books you'll see the best $12 I ever spent, which I'll tell you about tomorrow.)
Are you seeing the problem? ONE WORK OF FICTION. This is abysmal, people. Don't get me wrong: David Liss is amazing, and I'm tearing through this one just like the rest of his novels. But what happens when I finish it? I can't just read parenting books. It might kill me.
Oh, and I'm about a third of the way through Gone Girl on audiobook. I'm really wanting to like it, but I'm not sure how it's going to sustain itself much longer without something big happening (other than, you know, the disappearance). Don't tell me, though.
There are a couple of books I've been eyeing, but I can't seem to pull the trigger. I even saw a bunch of titles I've bookmarked on Goodreads when I was wandering around my favorite bookstore on Sunday and I still left empty-handed. There is something wrong with me.
Chicagolanders: if you haven't been here, add it to your list.
Also, save room for the bread pudding in their amazing little cafe.
So this ex-literacy facilitator needs a kick in the reading pants. Anybody else excited about Flight Behavior or Sweet Tooth? What else are you reading? I need some serious inspiration, or I'm going to be stuck watching way too many King of Queens reruns before bed. Again.