At the start of the year I set what I felt was a modest goal for reading books: 26. One book every two weeks. I’m not a fast reader so giving myself two weeks to read a book seemed entirely reasonable, assuming I wasn’t going to read the equivalent of Stephen King’s Complete and Uncut Edition of The Stand each time.
Almost all of my reading is done during my commute to work. It is a long commute–just over an hour each way–and I previously would just zone out and listen to music, which was nice in its own way, I suppose. Switching to reading significantly boosted the number of books I read, though, and I feel this is a better use of my time. For one, it allows me to explore more new authors than I might normally, because I have such a generous block of time set aside just for reading.
I’ve not moved much from my preferred genres, though. Some things are harder to break from.
At the start of this year I was in a bit of a funk. Overweight and struggling to get back on track, unhappy with work life, unhappy with having such a long commute and losing a significant chunk of my day to it, reading or not. The end result is I read less than normal, opting more for the blissful escape of music piped through noise-canceling earphones, possibly the best indirectly-related transit purchase I’ve ever made. Sometimes I put them on and don’t even listen to music, just the velvet silence they provide on an otherwise loud, roaring train.
I was keeping up with my book goal, though only just until mid-March, when the pandemic hit. From March 18th until this past Wednesday my commute was gone (we are now obligated to go in once a week to provide on-site support for the few classes that are still happening on campus). Without the commute, my reading place was gone. Sure, I could just use the same time to keep reading, but that’s not the way most people work, I suspect.
You find your routine disrupted, you make changes and adjust. For me, this meant getting up later in the morning. Not sleeping in, but simply getting closer to the proper amount of sleep. A net positive. For the space where the afternoon commute existed I now exercise. Both of these things have made me feel better and have improved my health. I honestly don’t want to go back to a daily commute. The thought sours my stomach.
But what of the reading? Goodreads tracks your reading challenge and lets you know if you are on track, ahead or behind. I fell behind, by a few books, then by a seemingly insurmountable number. I was eight books behind at one point.
As of today that number is about to be cut in half to four and I now think I can catch up and meet my goal. How did I do this?
By taking baths.
My Kobo Libra ereader is water-resistant, so there’s no danger in getting it a little wet, so it has become my companion in the tub. I get in and read for maybe an hour or so, then tend to the actual bath part. It is a very relaxing way to read.
I re-read almost all of The Amityville Horror in the bathtub. While the book wasn’t really worth re-reading, it proved the experience of reading in the tub was a worthwhile one.
I’ve also started reading more often on my iPad when I go to bed (yes, I know they say this is bad, blue light keeps you awake and so on, but I don’t read for long, honest!) and so I typically have two books on the go.
So far this has been working and it’s getting me back on track on my reading goals for the year (I’m more goal-oriented than I realized, I think). The fatigue of the pandemic has been pushed aside, even as I find myself wearing masks and being more cautious than ever, because I need to get back to just doing stuff. And if that means reading in the bathtub, that’s what I’m doing.
I do need to get more bubble bath, though.
