On goals, and not meeting them

Well, it’s December 31st, so it’s time to contemplate the successes and failures of 2017 and anticipate the failures of the year ahead. That’s what we’re supposed to do, right? Oh, and successes too you say? That’s very sweet of you.

I did not reach my 2017 reading goal. Not even close. On Friday, I checked it (on Goodreads) and it said something like “17 books behind schedule… 2 days to go. There’s still time!” LOL GOODREADS. You joker. Leave me alone. I’m obviosuly going to finish The Good Place on Netflix instead. And eat 80 chocolates.

This year, I spent a lot of days/weeks carrying around books I wasn’t reading while reading nothing. Once I was done with the intensive-breastfeeding part of being a mother, where you can easily spend 7 or 8 hours just SITTING THERE out of every 24, it got much harder to find the time and energy to read. Also I was doing other things. Like sewing. And smelling my kid’s delicious peanut-butter-head. And washing cloth diapers. And crying in bathrooms.

Also, I wasn’t at the last meeting of my book club, and in my absence they chose to read A SELECTION OF CANADIAN POETRY. Whaaaa? So I did read some of those Canadian poems, and here’s what I learned from that experience: My attention span has evaporated. I’ve never been much of a poetry person, but now apparently I am unable to concentrate on it even enough to absorb the words, let alone figure out what they mean. Sorry, poetry. The Internet ruined me. Also probably getting like 5.5 hours of sleep per night on average for the past year and a half? Huh. So I guess what I’m saying is that in 2018 I hope to finish reading the Lincoln Lawyer books. That should be about my speed. Also there might be a second season of The Good Place. Sorry, world. I’m going to keep on disappointing you.



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