Bane of my existence

 

These books mock me. They sit, on my bedside table, and they actually taunt me. I want to read until my eyeballs fall out. I need to be challenged. I want to learn. And I do make the most of my time, really. As I sit here blogging, I feel a twinge of guilt. I also took a look back at my blog the other day, and I rarely post anymore. I miss it, but I just have other things I want to do. There probably is a way to fit it all in, but I haven't figured that out yet.

So I thought I'd blog about my books, since I don't seem to be able to *read* them.