I’ll be the first to admit, I’ve been accused of devouring books, especially really good books. I just can’t seem to help it.
When I was a teacher, I would start free reading sometimes with the confession that I was almost late to my job because I just wanted to read one more chapter, which turned into 5 more chapters only to check my clock to realize I had to hustle to make it to school on time. This confession comes the day after such an event.

I almost always start my day with one cup of coffee and reading a couple of chapters of the book I am currently reading. I have a rough estimate for how long that takes, but it turns out that you can make that first cup of coffee linger to 100 pages and almost an hour of reading if you are really into the story.

Yesterday, I emerged from my first cup of coffee world only to realize that the 15 minutes I was going to read turned into 45 minutes of reading. And it was still a serious commitment, like ripping a bandaid off, to stop reading with only 47 pages left in my book to hop in the shower and get ready for the day. The only aspect of this identity as book devourer, is that I know I am not the only one out there. I know there are others just like me who have to tear themselves away from that reading wonderland to start their days or sleep. I know there are others just like me who find it hard not to talk back to the authors they are reading and function in what most people consider the “real world.”

So, fellow book devourers, happy Monday. Although I know that it means limiting your reading time to do those things that growns up do like go to work, get dressed, and have conversations with flesh and blood people rather than characters. Rest assured there are others who are resisting the temptation to sneak in just a couple more pages and counting down the hours until it’s reading time again.