For some reason I'm having the hardest time picking a book to read next. I finished reading the very short Simenon novel, The Engagement mid-week, but try as I may, I just haven't settled on my next book. I always feel a little unmoored without being in the midst of a good read. I keep picking up nonfiction titles, which is probably a clue has to what I should read next. My temptation is to continue to read a slew of mystery and noir crime novels, because I eat them up so fast, and they are quite enjoyable.
I was telling my beloved about my dilemma tonight, and her response was that I probably could have had a another book read by now. That is true. Usually I find the process of choosing my next book to be fun. It gives me a chance to browse over the titles in my library yet to be read. It reminds me of titles I hadn't thought of in a while. I haven't had a real stretch of significant reading time in a while. I got most of The Engagement read while sitting in my care waiting to go into work. After posting this I'll peruse some more books, and maybe I'll actually settle on something.
Tomorrow is the Fourth of July, and that is a nationally recognized holiday here in America. That means plenty of 4th of July sales; additional excuses (and days!) to get drunk!; and the big kicker: explosives! The fourth happens to fall on a Sunday this year, so Monday will be the holiday "observed." That means no mail delivery, no bank business and so forth. Flags will be waving with extra gusto throughout the weekend.
Someone left a plastic flag on our porch the other day. What was I supposed to do with it, plant it at my grandfather's gravestone? Wave it during local parade, as the high school band marches by playing some George M. Cohan tune? Or send it back to China from whence it came?
The students next door were getting all beery again. It is Saturday night after all. I have no issue with twenty-somethings with nothing better to do partying on the weekend, but because our house practically within arm's reach of their house, then every smoke break becomes fodder for my judgement. I was taking a break on our back deck as is my wont, when I overhead such wonderful nuggets as: "I love tequila. I could drink it all night long." "I tell people I'm an ER surgeon all the time." "Thanks a lot asshole." Then they moved off to some local bar, where they could continue their intellectual discourse.
There is a beautiful half moon rising in the east, slightly obscured by clouds. I'll have to take another break outside in the moonlight before I retire. Our neighborhood is surprisingly, and pleasantly quiet after midnight. The college kids are never really loud past midnight. I don't think that they party on the back balcony, because it looks like it's leaning towards the parking lot at a unsafe angle.
Time to stop procrastinating and choose a book to read. Time's a wasting.