I have a confession to make.
I am addicted to reading. Have been all my life.
Once I get hold of a book - or any text for that matter - that takes my fancy (and there aren't few), I can't quit reading until I'm finished. Or until I fall unconscious, whichever comes first. All my bodily needs fall second to the urge to finish the text. I cease to exist to the outer world.
Only when common sense, what little there is left, tells me there is no way I could finish it within reasonable time (until my next unavoidable obligation, that is), am I willing to grudgingly let go but return to it as soon as circumstances allow.
I should be sleeping right now, as the matter of fact. And yet I'm still awake wondering whether I should go looking for that smidgeon of common sense that is supposed to be hiding somewhere within my head or continue with the project I can't for the life of me finish in reasonable time.
