Dear Family, Friends and Acquaintances,
I would like to extend this preemptive apology for the housework I am not going to do, the conversations I may cut short and the general slacker attitude I may demonstrate. This lack of ambition to at least maintain the status quo in my life, much less strive to complete long planned projects is not completely my fault.
I blame the library.
It seemed innocent enough. For the past couple of months since we have been home from China, I had placed a few (okay, more than a few) requests for books. Through the magic of computers, I could see where I was on the waiting list. Occasionally there would be more than 30 people ahead of me.
I truly believed these books would become available to me at staggered intervals. I had no idea that so many of the books would be ready for me within a few short days. I have nearly 5,000 pages to read in the next few weeks with more books to become available to me shortly.
As it is completely illegal to renew them with other tax payers waiting to read them, I have no choice but to read at a frantic clip.
Yes, I realize that most people won't grab every available waking moment to finish a 644 page book in two days. But I am not most people. I finished that one today and have already begun another one. I believe my hands have begun to cramp from maintaining their fixed positions on the hardcover edges of literature. My fingertips are a horrifying sight of paper cuts. Still I soldier on till my eyes burn and my mind dulls, rereading the same paragraph over and over, without comprehension in my sleep-fighting state.
So, while not completely accepting my blame in the situation, I apologize that the meals I have been cooking may have been lackluster. The dishes are piling up, laundry is unfolded in baskets and telephone calls are going unanswered.
I am sorry children, for being a mediocre mother who's admonitions to "find something to do" or "just go outside and play for a while" are really my chance to buy more time sitting on the front porch with a book in my hand.
Dear Husband, I will try to fight the urge to ask you yet again to cover the kids bath time, and try to resist the inclination to let them be stinky or hose them off in the backyard. I will also try to avoid ranting in your general (and very cute) direction about a heroine's poor choices or a ridiculous plot twist. I will acknowledge publicly that these literary shortcomings are not technically your fault.
And I will try to step away from that tempting offer to "request next available copy" from the library. For now.