I have so many books I want to read!
Let’s just ignore, for a second my over 12 page (last updated about a year ago) book list including everything from utopian fiction to the classics. Let’s also ignore the tens of pictures of books on my phone I want to read, or my goodreads book list.
But even besides those things. Just this semester, I want to read so much. I have the Bones books I want to finish, as well as the required reading I have, as well as the opportunity to join two book clubs. One that meets every other week, which, realistically, will be near to impossible, and another that meets every month. So I fall asleep chanting books, books, books.
But what do you expect when you’re an English major and you love reading?
This. For the rest of my life I guess.
And even though it can be a little confusing and overwhelming, I love it. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I wouldn’t be who I was if I didn’t. It’s chaotic and a bit stressful, totally quirky, and eclectic. I like it. And I think that’s just who I am.