Yesterday was National Readathon Day. I was excited! I joined a team and made a donation and set my reading list and cleared my schedule, and I was ready to go. I got to sit and read, uninterrupted, for 4 hours straight. It was wonderful!
And I didn't read anything I had planned to.
Well, that's not entirely true. I read a chapter or two from the books I planned to finish. But mostly, I read that one book that has me hooked right now. (Dr. Drew's Cracked. More on that another time) My plan was to finish some of the books I'm reading, to get my current reading under control, as I have a habit of starting non-fiction books on a whim and taking my time getting to the ends. But no. I'll have to work on that in the next few weeks.
But more importantly than what I read or what I planned to read or what I didn't read is the fact that I took the time to spend a Saturday afternoon reading. And it was far more therapeutic than I expected. I've been fighting off a cold or a sinus infection or some such misery creating goo for most of the week, so getting to spend a Saturday in bed, reading whatever I want and not having to worry about anything going on anywhere else in the house or in the city or in the world was just what I needed.
We should do this more often! Or I should anyway. I'm bad about making lists for myself Things that need to be done (although they don't really need to be done). Things I want to accomplish this week (although anything I don't get done in a week either gets done later or takes care of itself). Important stuff to do (pffft!). Readathon Day was a powerful reminder for me to stop being so hard on myself and enjoy my time. It's not self-indulgent to just read for an afternoon here and there. Or maybe it is, but it's an indulgence I deserve. It's one that we all deserve.
So when is my next readathon? I'm not sure. Maybe I'll do it again next month. That sounds like an awesome answer to the February bad weather blahs. Read on! Read all the books!