Reading & Stealing

I am ashamed to admit it, but other than Saturday, I can't recall the last time I actually read a book. I know it's been a long while. Taking the time to actually sit down to read a book through it's entirety has just been a rarity. Besides, I haven't found a book worth the time or effort either.

My brother left a book at our parents house, Dexter. Mind you, in addition to not reading, I don't watch television either. I seldom bother to turn it on, I just don't have the interest or ability to sit still that long. Besides, I don't want to feel trapped into watching a series and becoming "addicted" to a show that dictates my schedule and my freedom. Wow, is it really that serious?

I found myself reading Dexter on Sunday since I couldn't get my parents wi-fi to connect and surfing the television didn't sound remotely appealing. I even took the book down to the pool and worked on some much needed color as I was beginning to feel vampirish in my pasty coloring. I managed to finish more than half the book before I found myself teetering on being sunburnt and unable to sit still any longer to finish reading. While the book was mildly entertaining, I would have been OK having not finished it.

I also can't remember the last time that I have outwardly "stolen" something either. Maybe stealing is a strong word, but I knowingly and willingly, without permission, took my brother's book at my mother's prodding. She swore that he had finished the book, although I believe he misplaced it and therefore left it behind, to pick up later in the week. Which now is not possible since the book is in my possession. I truly hope that my taking the book doesn't cause a rift in our relationship! Afterall, I read Dear Abbey today and a similar story about a person loaning a book to a friend many years ago has yet to be returned. She found the book on her friend's book shelf and she wants the $20 book returned. Personally, get over it.

Rule of thumb...never lend out anything that you have to have back. But in my case, he didn't lend it to me or give it to me. I surely hope that the end justifies the needs. Otherwise, I may have to consider a visit to the confessional in my near future (the last one was so horribly heart wrenching twenty years ago, that I have yet to return. Can you imagine how disturbing a confessional must have been at 15? I can only say that I've likely saved many a priest by not confessing anything since!)

Anyway, that's for another post. Back to Dexter...I'm actually hoping that I like the book well enough to watch the Season's television shows in it's entirety as my blockbuster movie selections are getting pretty weak as of late.