Department of the Interior

Brought to you by my dwindling vacation hours.

At 7:45 Sunday night, I realized I hadn't been outside at all that day. The closest I'd come was sticking my head out the back door to call the cat back from his rambles. I remedied the situation with a trip to the curb to put the garbage out, but then I retreated back inside and returned to what I'd been doing: reading.

I've been between jobs for three weeks now, with one more to go, and I'm still not bored yet. Why? Because I've been reading. Reading has always been one of my greatest — and guiltiest — pleasures. Reading books and blogs has always been the treat, the reward, the thing I got to do only after mandatory chores were done. Even in graduate school, getting a degree in English, I couldn't just sit around all day devouring novels, I had to read literary criticism and theory, too. I've never had enough time to read as much as I wanted to — until now.

For the past few weeks, there's been very little I had to do, so I've been spending my time on what I want to do, and that's read. I finished in a day a novel I'd only been able to look at a few minutes at a time. I've read a couple books recommended by friends and caught up on glossy magazines. I've had time to read a serialized novella online. I've been reading — not just skimming, but truly reading — other people's blogs and replying with thoughtful comments, as well as responding to those who write to me.

I've been wallowing in luscious piles of words, getting them tangled in my hair and stuck between my teeth, finding shy phrases in my pockets when I put a jacket back on, sneaky sentences in the washer with the clean dishes. I've been living almost entirely inside my head, and I've got to tell you, I like it in here.

This is the part where you figure I've gone entirely off the deep end. It was only a matter of time, right? And you're preparing your sound bite for the evening news: "She was always such a quiet neighbor, kept to herself, just read all the time. I'm shocked that this has happened."

Well, you can stop worrying. Much as I enjoy my interior textual landscape, there are a few things missing. Chocolate, for instance. Words can tell me all about how chocolate tastes and smells, but if I want to actually taste it, I have to get up and get some. And cats. I can't feed or pet my kitties from inside my head. And T'ai Chi. It's tough to hear my teachers if I don't go to class. So I'm not really going to turn into a huge pile of nothing but pulsing brain matter, attached to my iBook by glistening cybertentacles. (Not that it wouldn't make a fantastic Halloween costume!) I'm indulging while I can, but I realize that all good things must come to an end.

Not for another week, though. Until then, it's back to the books. Word up, yo.

Today around the world: October 31 is BOO! It's also National Magic Day in the U.S. in honor of Houdini.