Twenty-four Hours

Twenty-four Hours

There are never enough hours in a day. That’s cliché, and I know it, but it’s honestly how I feel. I’m busy at work, completely enthralled by World of Warcraft at home, and not getting nearly enough sleep. Okay, yes, the online game could probably be sacrificed in the interests of more time, and it’s what gets dropped when I need to, but my other hobbies are still left with no time.

The one I miss most, and the one that’s embarrassing to admit to sacrificing, is reading. That’s right, this writer shamefully admits to choosing 3D animated role-play over a good book. I don’t know why; it’s just the way the wind blows.

Or maybe not.

While I’ll admit that World of Warcraft consumes my time, thoughts, and energy, it doesn’t wreak havoc with my emotions (not even the role-playing half of it.) It can frustrate me to no end, make me happy, angry, proud, pissed off at human nature, but it cannot make me depressed. I do not cry over a video game. I do not fall in love with the characters. Ironically, I don’t get as attached to the world of the game. There’s just something about a book that invites me in to a greater degree, even if I can’t interact directly with anything in it.

So the books get left behind when the world gets too chaotic for me. And I miss them. Crazy, absorbing, time-consuming things that they are, I love them.

Perhaps it’s time to break away from the keyboard and monitor for a while, and since back into text on paper, pages to turn, and a story to curl up in.

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