So.

I got the job. The very next day I received a call from Lori. I should start some time at the end of this week.

Thrilled to the core.

Books are an important aspect of myself.

I’ll read virtually anything, and I encourage reading in people of all ages.

Although, I can be a bit picky.

I find it ridiculously irking that some kids today only read books such as the Harry Potter series.

The world of literature is so vast; millions of pathways paved by the pen, or stamped out by the typewriter.

I just can’t comprehend why one would limit herself to a work that is so juvenile and trite, especially when compared to other great series such as the Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis, or even His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman, a much more contemporary author.

Bollocks.

‘Tis a shame that a love of reading is no longer valued or nourished.

Even I need to read more. As the years pass I find it more and more difficult to find the time to simply enjoy words.

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I’ve felt a bit more uptight than usual these last couple of days.

Of course, I would like to attribute my foul mood to the onset of a certain monthly visitor.

And I really do believe that that is the real culprit.

Meh.

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I am in one of those moods in which I’d like the rest of my life to play out like a fairytale, or a high-blown adventure story.

Not that my life is dull, by any means.

Occasionally it does get dreadfully predictable; however, I am still very thankful for the time I have on this earth.

I know I don’t really have much time.

I am also aware that I am not making the best use of it.

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Whiling away the minutes.

I could play Oblivion.

I could pick up Kathy’s book again.

I could continue to write about absolutely nothing in this blog.

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You know, if there is a creator being upon which all of reality is contingent upon, I have to hand it to Him/Her/It.

“The sunsets are bloody marvelous, you old bastard.”