Holidays, when I was younger, used to be a time that I would munch through book after book, reading new books that had been wrapped in Christmas paper a week before, or rereading old favourite, or swapping books with friends. In one week of holidays, I could have easily gone through five or six books.
Somehow, I can’t do that anymore. Probably because holidays are not the leisurely, idle times they used to be when I was at school. Now, holidays are the time for proper clean of the house, or run all those errands you put off while you are working, or go on daytrips to visit friends who live just that little bit further away (and, because you are the adult, you have to do the driving now, so no reading in the backseat). Holidays just aren’t as relaxing as they used to be, which means they are not as full of reading as they used to be.
I’ve been neglecting reading, and writing, and blogging, during my supposed ‘Christmas break’. I could never understand when a family member told me that they used to read a lot when they were young, but now they just didn’t have time. ‘Rubbish,’ I would think to myself, ‘you can always make time’. But sometimes, you arrive home and just collapse into bed, and the thought of spending even twenty minutes with your eyes open to read a chapter or two sounds dreadful. Sadly, I have become a grown up. I have to put other things in front of reading, even during the holidays.
But that’s okay. I’ve had a bit of hiatus from reading and writing, but I’m back to it now. The next month or so will be really quite busy (it’s less than a month until the Adelaide Fringe opens, which means time is running out until the Fringe Parade, my massive, seemingly unsurmountable project at the moment) but I need to change my mentality a bit, so that reading is part of my routine again. After all, if I can make time to clean the house, surely I can make time for a bit of reading? We’ll see.