A book addict, that is. Seriously, I have a problem. I buy more books than I can read, I get more books out of the library than I can read, I can't walk past a book store without going in, I can't return something to the library without getting at least ten books out.
It's getting out of fucking control!!!
Books I bought in the Syracuse Borders on Sunday (different town, different selection):Calamity Jayne
by Kathleen BacusCrimson City
by Liz MaverickGhosts in the Snow
by Tamara Siler JonesHeart On My Sleeve
by Ellen WittlingerSexy
by Joyce Carol Oates
Plus as if my "problem" weren't bad enough, I'm so busy with my internship, and getting caught up on work from last semester, and getting ready for my 21st birthday party, and hanging out with my friends, that I am hardly home and hardly have time to read at all. It's February 15, technically, (I haven't gone to bed from the 14th yet) and I've only read 10 books this year. That's a measly, pathetic total for me.
And the review situation is worse. I have this shiny new review journal and I've reviewed nothing
! I'm afraid that by the time I finally do get around to reviewing the 9 books I've read but have yet to review, I won't even remember what the hell they're about, which could be a major hindrance to the review process. Aaargh!
Anyway, in the meantime, I did update my list of books I've read with here
, but I didn't even do mini-comments like I used to. As a reviewer, I suck.
On the writing front, my Creative Writing professor from last semester emailed me asking me to submit something to the literary magazine, and I want to do some kind of really cool experimental essay, but I sit down and all I can write are weird blog entries
and fucking half-assed, bad haikus
. I'm creatively bankrupt. I haven't even written fanfiction, or participated in fandom at any level, in forever. I miss it like hell, and every time I get the precious moments to watch one of my shows, I'm bombarded with story ideas, but I just don't have the time, the energy, or the inspiration to throw myself back into it.
I just... gah. I don't know.
Of course, all of this could just be exacerbated by the fact that it's fucking Valentine's Day, and I'm alone, and I spent all day working my ass off for what amounted to pretty much nothing.
Wow. This was just going to be a quick entry, but then I got going and going and going. Shit.
I'm off to sleep now. Or try to write something profound, or at least decent.books
, time management