1. Perhaps it symbolizes the desire to fly free from the yoke of oppression.
When watching a television show/movie that features a scene with a Latino gang, I inevitably entirely miss the dialogue, so preoccupied am I with sartorial questions. Or rather one sartorial question: what is the appeal of a short-sleeved work shirt with only the very tippy-top button buttoned so that it makes a sort of cape-with-sleeves? A cape seems to strike a harshly formal note when paired with a white undershirt, and the buttoned collar looks awfully restrictive. I do not understand. Will one of the Latino gang members in the audience (Oh come on. There has to be ONE with a secret, shameful addiction to mommyblogs) explain it to us in comments, please?
2. Don’t put money on it, or anything.
I am going to keep doing this, posting three things, any three things I happen to think of, just typetypetypePOST, with no editing, every weekday for a while. I decided last month to start on December 1st, as sort of my own grown-up advent calendar, only with writing, and obviously continuing after Christmas, so…not really very advent-y, then. Anyway, December started on a weekend, so here we are. Or were, yesterday, and are again now. My god, I can’t believe I just have to leave all this up here. This is a very tough love (which I just typed “tough lough,” and then fixed, because I do have standards) approach to curing one’s crippling perfectionism. Does this count as one of my three things? I vote yes.
3. Reading is fundamentally dangerous.
I have started reading again, thanks to the Kindle app on my phone: I can read while I pump, and in dark middle-of-the-night snatches, and while I rock the baby, and it has reminded me just how terrible I am at moderation when it comes to this particular activity. Either I read very sparsely, taking ages and ages to finish a single book, or I read twenty in five weeks. There seems to be no middle ground at all. Frankly, the amount of pleasure it gives me, and the way I sometimes feel almost desperate to get back to my book seems unwholesome, and certainly there is some amount of escapism at play, and of course the time I spend reading might better be spent beating back the tide of household entropy, but I find I do not particularly care.
What I do care about is how difficult it is to keep myself in reading material, and what little time I have with whatever characters I have grown attached to before the pages run out. It is so sad being a fast reader. On the other hand, I really do not have the brain for difficult reading at the moment, seeing as I am getting almost no sleep, so the solution is one of quantity, not density. So: can you suggest some books for me? Anything, really. Fiction or Non. It doesn’t have to be particularly literary, though it may be. Lately I have been reading mysteries, partly because they often come in a series and then I have several books with the same character, which is cozy and comforting to a fast reader, so if you happen to be fond of mysteries, I would love suggestions.
Maybe I can recommend things for you in exchange? I should get to sleep now, but let’s chat more about this in the comments in the morning.