I love to read.
That's not the exact way to express my relationship with reading. It's not like a hobby for which I set aside time, or make special trips to buy supplies. It's not like the obsession I sometimes have with knitting, where the wonder of seeing something grow on my needles compels me to sit down with it night after night until it's finished.
Reading is more like eating. I do it every day, sometimes thoughtfully and in celebration, often with little conscious thought, just to keep going.
So I guess I'd have to say I've been binge-reading for the last 24 hours. I went through half a novel yesterday, with little thought for the consequences.* This morning it was long, serious pieces as I wandered through various blogs and internet sites. Kind of like the days of getting lost in the library as an undergraduate.
I am looking for new ways to think, new things to think about.
And could the binge-reading be connected to efforts to change my eating habits?
* "The Help" -- story, story, story; interesting because a white female author has used the first person to give voices to black female domestics in Jackson, Mississippi, in 1962-63