I just haven't been doing any reading. Work has gone crazy busy (I mean, really, how many nights in a row can I stay up until 2 a.m. trying to finish something?). The volunteer causes I'm involved in have developed a string of Saturday morning meetings and events that has remained unbroken for a month and will continue through the end of October. And those meetings are accompanied by a ton of organizing and e-mail correspondence.
I looked at my reading challenges list last night with some dismay. Remember when the year was new and there were 12 whole months ahead, pristine and inviting, and reading a small library of books seemed blissfully possible? Wasn't it only a few weeks ago?
It's like one of my favorite Peanuts cartoons. Linus says to Charlie Brown (I'm paraphrasing here), "School starts next week. Kind of makes you wonder what happened to summer, doesn't it?" And Charlie Brown says, "What happened to spring?"
Now rather suddenly it's September. I love fall and dream of the day that it once again means apple picking, blazing leaves, and sweaters and corduroys. Meanwhile, I have three reviews that I should be writing and posting, of books that I read back in . . . uh, May.
Somehow I need to find a way to take back my nights and weekends, and start drawing some lines through the titles on those ambitious reading lists. Otherwise, this year's challenge wraps are going to be seriously lacking.