Last night I resumed a practice that has gone dormant and forgotten for years of my life: reading for pleasure. It is such an amazing, mood-realigning activity. I get sucked in by the story, and resurface for air hours later, not knowing the time, mind abuzz with the peculiar characters and plot twists. I feel so much more complete when I read. Do you feel that way too?
The book to rekindle my passion is American Gods, by Neil Gaiman, the first item of a meticulously constructed reading list designed for my upcoming cross-country train trip. I may share that list with you at some point. In the meantime, what are you reading?
[In other news, David Byrne is not angry with you, nor are most people whom you encounter who are grumpy. They’re just tired or stressed or distracted. They’re actually really nice if you get them in the right context.]
