I bought Harry Potter and the Halfblood Prince yesterday around 11am, on my break at work. I refused to start it then, knowing I'd happily leave my job for the chance to continue reading.
I waited until I got home, at about 1:30 to start reading. And I did have a break around 7:30, when Bruce and I decided to stop letting our collective stomach acid knaw away the lining(s) of our stomach(s) and leave for nourishment. So take that hour out of the equation.
But at 2:30 when I went to bed, I had finished the book. I think 650 pages is pretty good for 12 hours. Last night when I should have been sleeping, I lay awake trying to turn it into a words/minute number that would leave me feeling smug - but the closest I could get was 50 pages/hour. Happily, I have no one else to compare myself to, because only I use retarded measurements like that. So I automatically win! Ha!
I'm a little disappointed with myself, actually. I'd wanted this book to really occupy my time for a while. But seriously, once I started, I couldn't not read it through.. it was that good.
2 comments:
I can't help feeling a little sorry for them, and then getting a little pissed, too. I mean, really. Do you really think you're superior because you have no imagination? Gah.
Aw, hon. I know you've got imagination.. up the wazoo! Sorry 'bout that!
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