Why All I Want to Do Is Read

Lately, I have found myself frequently lamenting if I have to do anything that isn't reading. All I want to do is read.

All. I want. To do. Is read.

Every spare minute. Evenings on the couch. Weekends between forcing myself to actually do things that need doing. Walking from condo to condo, checking on neighbors' places. In the elevator (hey, it's slow, those minutes get boring).

I was on a zoom call last week knitting with a friend when that came up, and I added "and knit" a bit less than convincingly, since lately my only knitting time has been with others*. She asked if I knit while doing something else, like watching TV, and yeah, sometimes I do, particularly during hockey season. But lately, all I want to do is read, and we agreed that sometimes, that's all that shuts the brain down to a single focus.
*Though now and then I have coffee and a pastry at a local bakery on a Saturday and people-watch while knitting.

This is not a good time in America (and plenty of other places). All sorts of awful shit is happening, all the time, over and over. And the more I let it into my brain, the harder it is to function.

Other than being a woman, I am not in a class that is heavily targeted right now. I'm white, middle-class, above childbearing age but not into the Medicare years...but what's happening to other people right now is terrifying, institutions are caving and crumbling, and I feel fragile.

So I read.