I get cranky when I don’t read for relaxation. Angry, cranky and just a miserable person to be around. Unfortunately, the past month has been so crazy busy that I have not read a single book. Yes – this does mean that I am currently a self-absorbed, agitated mess of a person that is humourless. I am not laughing at jokes, sarcasm passes me by and I am snapping at my sons’ banter. As a self-confessed reading addict, I am going through withdrawals. The cold-sweats, I’m curled up in a foetal position, my reddened eyes and gnawed fingernails and chipped polish. I stare longingly at the piles of books that tempt me but I lash out angrily, constantly pushing the temptation far away from me as I reach for another theory laden assignment to mark. It is, indeed a dark place I am currently inhabiting.
Now don’t get me wrong here. I have not gone without reading for a month. It is pleasure reading which has fallen by the wayside. The whole month of June has been taken over with marking student works (both undergrad and postgrad) primarily in Information Behaviour Theory. Now I do love me some sense-making discourse, and throw in practice theory too but they suck when I am trying to wind down and relax. I am also completing 2 conference papers for June and July and on top of that, I received notification from JPRS that a paper I submitted a while ago has been accepted for publication “as is” (wooot! *blows into kazoo*) but I need to do some small edits before the end of this week. Continue reading