And Now Wednesday...

...has arrived and I'm not feeling any better. In fact, I've started coughing and my throat is scratchy. Stupid disease, making me take the stupid drugs that shut off my immune system so I pick up any virus that your uncle's sister's daughter's schoolteacher might have.

I read a funny article yesterday about a man who claims to be a serial unfinisher of books. I might have to claim ownership of that title as well. Currently, I'm reading a number of books in the vain hope of actually finishing the 50 Book Challenge: Saturday by Ian McEwan, Playing with Matches by Amy Cameron, and Start Late, Finish Rich by David Bach. Well there's actually one book that I finished this weekend that I can't talk about because it's an advance reading copy and I'm not sure if I can spill the beans, but I'm at eleven!

There are so many books I've picked up over the years and never actually finished. My book shelves are littered with them, bookmarks hanging out like tongues, panting at the thought of being able to move to another selection, but never having the chance.

I was telling my friend Zesty today that the best thing about my new job is actually still having a life, a life that allows me to get home early enough to make dinner, to write poetry and to read. Now, maybe I'll actually finish the majority of books I start instead of abandoning them because I'm so stressed out worrying about how the Boss From Hell is going to sabatoge my life.