This week was hard. Tuesday and Wednesday I worked all day, then had school from 6:00-8:40, then came home and did homework from 9-midnight. Thursday, I had to do a midnight press check for my magazine that I wrote. By Friday, I was so tired I could barely see straight.

So, so very tired.

But now I’m better. I spent my weekend sleeping and reading (okay, I also squeezed in some tennis and shopping). In a few weeks I get to meet one of my favorite authors (Anita Shreve) when she makes a local stop on her book tour, so I’m anxiously devouring a few more of her books before I meet her. I’ve already read this, this, and this, and this weekend I read most of this. Next, I’m going to tackle this. Her books are simply wonderful.

There’s no better feeling than to have a book that I can’t put down. Looking forward to crawling into my comfortable bed for a few uninterrupted hours of escape, not thinking about anything except the picture the author so beautifully paints in my head. Wanting to squeeze in just one more chapter. Maybe two. And next thing I know, hours have passed, and I have lived a life I had never known before, met people from another place or time. Oh, the joy of a good book.