Can't. breathe. Must. reach. books.

I sat and read last night. This is a MIRACLE, people, as it wasn't a text for grad school or the newspaper. Lately I've felt very unsettled and stressed out and realized it's due to lack of reading. I've read daily since the age of five up until the past few years, when my reading has been limited by things like kids, jobs, and school. But I finally realized that reading for me has never been "recreational"; it's essential. So after feeling like my breathing has been hampered for a few years, I finally made the connection and have started drawing in long, deep, satisfying words on a page. Ahhhh....that's better.

So I've decided that it's like my life is an airplane that's losing pressure, and instead of an oxygen mask, a book has dropped out of the ceiling. So I'm pressing it to my face to ensure my own survival first, so then I can turn and help the small children with theirs. Lately I've been pressing books to their faces first and leaving myself gasping. Apparently I'm not good at listening to flight instructions. Or creating effective metaphors.