On my bedside table, there is a mountain of books that want desperately to be read (or reread).
The stack has been growing gradually over the past few months because I've been too stubborn to admit that I don't have enough time or energy to read. And I fear I'll forget about them if I shelf them out of my sight. Now they've become a permanent fixture on my desk -- my alarm clock propped atop them...
Persepolis... The Great Gatsby... The Executioner's Song... East of Eden... The Post-Birthday World... The Brain that Changes Itself... Generation Kill... Case Histories...
Every morning when I hit the snooze button...they look at me longingly. It's so sad.
