Do you read magazines?
Not so long ago, I used to be a reader. I loved reading. Nothing pleased me more than picking up a new book. I was one of those types who would mill around Barnes and Noble for hours and emerge with a stack of books tall enough to tire out my arms.
When I became pregnant I thought I would have more time to read. I went out for two weeks before the baby was born and picked up a few books and some magazines that I thought I'd get to before baby arrived. I even foolishly brought a magazine with me to the hospital when I went into labor. Just 'cause, you know, I might have time to get some reading in.
Once the baby came, and for a long time afterwards, I thought I'd never read again. I was exhausted, had no time, and couldn't have focused my way through a sentence if my life had depended on it. I couldn't even read the menu to order take-out (thank goodness I always get the same thing).
Later I found time to read in fits and starts, mainly when I was pumping at work. I kept a neat little stack of magazines in my desk for the several half-hour stints of pumping that seemed to go so much better when I had something else to focus on.
And that's all I have time for. I also have such a little attention span with all that I have going on in my life that the thought of reading one of the tempting myriad books sitting on my shelf in the "to read" pile makes me laugh until I forget what it was I was laughing about.
So not only do I not have the time or patience to settle in with a good book, but the magazines I've chosen to read complicate things further. My magazine of choice is the New Yorker. One comes every week meaning even if I have time to read it I barely finish it before another one arrives.
I will freely admit my other reading choices are not so high and mighty. I also LOVE Lucky. I have no time to shop and no money to do it with anyway, so reading Lucky is like getting in all the window shopping I can handle. Plus they go on endlessly about new beauty products, which are more like an obsession than a hobby at this point.
Does this story sound familiar? Are you lucky if you get ten minutes to glance through the Do's and Don't's in Glamour? If you are, then I feel for you, really.
Sometimes, in order to get five minutes to myself, I linger in the bathroom so I can read. I don't camp out I can assure you but my husband suspects I am in there doing more than what I say I am going in for. And he's right.