The no reading experiment was a failure!

I read 100 pages.

They were very short pages, from Julia Child's My Life in France. My copy is a paperback, and there are a lot of empty spaces on the pages. I barely read at all!

But it was still a literal failure.

BUT, in another sense, a bigger-picture sense, the gist of it was a success. I noticed how many times I wished that I could just "take a break" from whatever pressure I was putting on myself and read for a while instead. If I'd been cleaning for a couple hours and was tired of it, I'd want to go sit down and read for a while. If I was trying to write and felt stuck, I'd want to go grab a book.

Escaping into some kind of made-up world is definitely a crutch for me. But I am not convinced that it's generally a bad one. Yes, sometimes I have read TOO much instead of doing things. I am now very aware of the way I feel when that urge to escape responsibility rears up, and I think I can deal with it a little bit better after this week.

Last week, I also did the same experiment with Ms. Internet and TV-as-background-noise. I also literally failed at cutting both of those out of my life, but I did cut way down AND notice what was going on with me when I retreated into either habit rather than face whatever horrible task I was "supposed" to be doing.

Here are some things that are horrible:
* figuring out what to do with my life
* finding the job that goes with "what to do with my life"
* vacuuming, especially the stairs

In summary, I'm labeling this failure "Pretty Much Good Enough."

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In other news, tonight I am going to have *A Beer*

It has been a whole month without alcohol, and I am looking forward to having *A Beer*

It might be a 90 Schilling.