I don't have time to read . . .

and I could blame my new macbook, but I know it's my own damn fault.

I am writing blogs, I am going over my next book, and I am being a dad (blogging in between tearing out coloring pages for my son to paint, and I did take the boy outside to play hide and seek, and get up with him in the night, twice, to smooth the hair from his fevered brow, and in the morning before six to lie down with him so he could rest some more and his mom could get forty more winks), and I am sort of teaching, and I have to be giving the devil of obligation his half-assed due in several areas.

What I most want to be doing is immersing myself in this novel that I am revising. I get a second wind after the kids are in bed and it keeps me up past the time I can really concentrate or trust the work.
But by then it is too late to read. I need immersion in reading as well as writing but I can't fit both into the time. I miss Cordelia (This is All: The Pillow Book of Cordelia Kennby Adan Chambers). As soon as I hit post, I am going back to her for an hour--forget my own stupid book.

COME SUMMER! COME SOON! I'm going to get the DARK TOWER (the last one--I have been reading them after my birtday and Christmas for the past few years) for my birthday (even if I have to buy it myself) and I am going to read a ton of other books: King Dork, I'm with the Band, novels by Carrie Jones, Alex Richards, more Simone Elkeles, short stories by Denis Johnson and Stuart Dybek . . . the list goes on and on.

Come summer, before I become the kind of teacher who actually stoops so low as to count the days! I know everyone who isn't a teacher hates me because of my summers, but I hate you becuase you don't have to try to inspire and discipline in the perfect measure so that kids learn stuff they don't give a good goddamn about. I love teaching and I love my students, but I LOOOOVE SUMMER!!!!!!

Hey, I just realized that I have NOTHING to complain about.
I get summer vacation, and you-hoo doh-hon't!!
:D