joecoog

Seems like I've picked up my penchant for reading again.

Before last month, the last full book I had read was only on the suggestion of an ex who'd wanted to read together and have something to talk about. From that day, I'd only used books as things to take up space or as paperweights.

I borrowed "Fight Club" from a co-worker and read a few pages a night as I could before I gobbled up over half of the book in a sitting. It only took about four weeks to finally finish it. Upon discussing with a couple of other friends at work that I'd read this book, they both suggested that I read "Invisible Monsters," also by the same author. Perhaps a week had passed after this discussion, but I remembered it later and I stopped by a Half Price Books and picked up a copy on the cheap.

I read that at a similar pace and now I'm on my third book, a nonfictional account of a writer turned amateur fighter called "A Fighter's Heart." In the queue are a handful of other books: "World War Z," "Less Than Zero" and "Tales of Ordinary Madness."

Random excerpt from today...
Girlfriend: I'm being lazy today and feeding the dog tofu
Me: You fed him tofu last night, didn't you?
G/F: Yeah... and?
Me: You don't remember, do you? All I'm saying is that he's not sleeping in the same room with me.