Murder by Death

I have reached rock bottom and denial is no longer working for me.  The rationalisation that life has been so busy!, no matter how true it might be, no longer holds up when you'd rather stare at your fingernails than pick up your book.

I'm in the mother of all reading slumps.

I've been reading a 160-something page book now for over a week.  It's not the author's best effort, but it certainly isn't that bad.  And I can't blame it on the book either.  I am overflowing with literary ennui.  

It will pass, as all things do, and I certainly do have more than enough happening in RL at the moment to keep me from fretting over the giant pink book slump in the middle of the room.  I long ago hit my book goals for the year, so there's no pressure to read either.  

But it would be nice if that giant pink book slump would haul its carcass out of here sooner rather than later; it's sitting in my favourite chair and hogging all the good light.