Actually, although enjoyable, my formal work also gets in the way of writing (another form of work), and squeezing in the writing is also getting in the way of reading. On the one hand, I’m very happy and satisfied that I’m getting the writing done. On the other hand, I feel like an addict who’s gone too long without her drug of choice: I need to read.
Think Gollum and the ring, and you have a pretty good idea of my relationship with my books (Yes, take my book, and I might bite your finger off.). I’m sure I have well over 1,000 books already, and I’m not even half-way through my “expected” lifespan. If I run short of books to buy and read, that simply means I need to try new authors. If I run out of money, I need to get a loan*. Not being able to sneak in a couple of books a week (re-reads are fine – and faster) is making me twitchy.
Unfortunately, right now, I pretty much have a choice between not reading and not sleeping.
….it might be a long night.
*This article may contain hyperbole.