I’ve never been the type of person to make formal New Year’s resolutions. I’m a bit of a cynic when it comes to losing weight, eating healthier, or joining a gym. I know I won’t do it just because it happens to be my goal for the year. But for once I think I’ll take part in the cliche.
I’ve been meaning to get back to reading actual books. Every once in a while I’ll pick one up, but it’s normally in the summer and I usually won’t finish it. At one point in time I read book after book. One summer I practically lived in the library. I miss it. I want to get back to that mindset.
Recently I’ve been feeling as if I’m losing my intelligence. I’m not sure if it’s possible, but it certainly feels possible to me. It’s as if I’m watching strawberry ice cream melting on the blacktop, while coming to a very slow realization that my cone is empty. I need to remedy this situation.
I think I’ve come up with a solution. I want to challenge myself to read at least 30 books, or plays, in the upcoming year. I’m not sure if I should come up with an assigned list, decided if assigned reading will count, or if there will be a minimum number of books a month. I’ll think about it more. All I know is it’s very likely that I’ll actually go through with this resolution.