Once every couple years things fall into place, and I loose myself in a book for the day. It would probably happen more often, but my life has it’s share of distractions (though not necessarily the bad kind). Today was one of those days. Beth spent half the day with her youth group at church. Adam was locked in a low-grade fever/daze, playing uncharacteristically low-key in the other room, or resting quietly by my side. I was excused from laundry due my own cold, that’s just beginning to bloom. And I had a book I couldn’t put down, not that I wanted to… or even thought about it.
My mind was MIA all day. Along the way I shed a tear, but finished with a satisfied smile.
Now I feel a little lost, a little bummed. The book is done and nothing in my queue feels like it can measure up. I’m a junkie that doesn’t know where to get his next fix.