Hole in My Heart

Confession: I haven't started a book since I ended A Visit From the Goon Squad while in one of the airports from the Chicago fiasco (note to self- write strongly-worded letter to United Airlines while the anger is still semi-fresh). Reading is on par with exercise to me: non-negotiable for sanity and health. Or, so I thought. Apparently I've allowed it to become negotiable, since the past two weeks have consisted of work, the dogs, and moving. Reading has not been fitting into this equation, since by the time I'm able to sit down for more than two minutes at the end of the day all I want to do is sleep. It makes me very sad. And it must be remedied pronto. Something is missing...

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