I read too much…

I love to read as much as a I love to write. I’ve always loved to read, when I was a kid it was my favorite thing to do. Of course when I was younger I read really profound things; To Kill a Mockingbird, Dracula, The Great Gatsby, Anne of Green Gables…The list could go on and on. And to be honest, the list will probably have it’s own blog post at some point. Now that I’m older, I read a lot of trash. And when I say trash (with so much love in my heart) I mean romance novels. I’m not knocking my own profession/obsession here, but they really are very mindless.

I don’t know about the rest of you, but at the end of the day, I could use some numbing out. By the time my daughter goes to sleep (and I mean actually asleep not just in bed, b/c its hard to relax when you know your kid is going to be calling your name in 5 minutes) I have had a loooong day. I’ve seen patients for 6 hours, gotten said daughter to and from school, fed her twice, played with her, bathed her, and rocked her. I’ve paid bills, done dishes, taken care of pets, a couple loads of laundry, and loved on my husband…And that’s on a slow day. It’s exhausting being a wife and a mom. We are constantly thinking about other peoples needs and wants. The other day I adjusted the thermostat 4 times because I couldn’t decide if my daughter would be hot or cold when she fell asleep. I mean, come on. Do you think my husband lays awake at night wondering if he remembered to get the right brand of oatmeal at the store? No. I’m the mom, no one worries about me as much as I worry about others. So when I climb in bed around 11, what do I want? Mindless romance, funny one liners, and sexual situations. I want to read about hot dudes with crazy 6 pack abs trying to get into the pants of hot chicks. About ridiculously wealthy men falling in love with the girl next door. And guys that love to talk dirty and the shy virgins they just met who are oddly okay with it. It might not be at all realistic, but isn’t that the point? We write to create alternate realities, and I read to escape, it’s the perfect combination. I don’t want to lay in bed and read about dieting or how to be a better me. I’m already pretty happy with the person I am. Trash lover and all.


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