Today was just one of those days… You know the ones: long, frustrating and tiring.  One of my friends and I went out for a drink afterward, at Applebees.  We didn’t feel like we ought to go to a bar so “late” at night, being respectable young ladies.  I’m not sure I ever really go to bars, anyway.  Maybe the occasional pub.  But this is a rare occurrence, as is alcohol in my life lately.  Something of an endangered species…

I’ve been reading Frankenstein, by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley.  I’m nearly done, and it is dreary!  I’ve been on a quest throughout the past few years to read through the classics that I never read growing up.  Overall, I’ve been disappointed in them, and this book is no different.  Perhaps for the time it was something worthwhile, but, really?  There is so much unnecessary conversation and description.  The book just drags on and on.  And it is entirely depressing.  I’ve yet to see one good thing happen in this book, but all ends with tragedy, and I suspect it will finish the same.  However, it is another check mark.  I’ve learned I don’t like Dickens (except his Christmas Carol, the only story with a bit of cheer).  I’ve tried to work my way through some of the philosophers (Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, Dostoevsky), but with not much luck so far.

Maybe I’m just a fluffy reader, when it comes down to it.  Give me a Harry Potter, an Anne of Green Gables or a Garrison Keillor book, and I will be a happy camper.  I get enough real life in real life.  When I read, it is to escape to a better and happier place, where things work out in the end.

And now, to bed and to finish the last chapter of Frankenstein, not maybe the best bedtime reading, but such it is.

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