At any given time I can tell you what I'm reading. Usually it's 2 or 3 books; often one fiction, one non-fiction, and one less serious fiction. The latter is often a reread; a Terry Pratchett, more often than not.
Like most geeky people I embraced the ereader phenomenon as soon as I could. I remember lusting after the original Kindle before it even came to Canada. My first reader though, really, was an iPad. Since then I've switched to different iPads, an actual ereader, and now I find myself coming back full circle to books. I find I missed the physical feel of books. The heft of a good read in my hands. The texture and design of a nice looking cover. The way some books have that kind of fake older feel to the edge of the pages.
My switch back to physical books has really happened quite recently though. I purchased Nick Offerman's book in hardcover because it just seemed like the type of thing he would want. As a man who seems to glorify and revel in the physical and the traditional, it seemed almost blasphemous to buy his book on an ereader.
Then, when choosing a book for Book Club (Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell) Mich asked if she could borrow it after I was done. Since I can't so much loan an ebook, I went and found it in hardcover.
And as a book about writing and book…something about it clicked for me. I liked seeing the pages fly by. I liked carrying it around. I liked the focus it offered, compared to an iPad with its notifications and whatnot.
I feel a renewed love of reading, of books and characters. I've even gotten into audiobooks, too. I've started to feel the stirrings of stories within me. Not a lot. It's still not fully formed, and I don't feel the urge to write the same way I feel the urge to blog (see me being here instead of pounding something out in Pages on this flight). But it's there. I may even have something original this time, as opposed to the usual fan fiction that jumps into my head.
We will see, however.
I've entered one of those things lately where all I want is something different in my day to day life. Where I lament the fact that, in all likelihood, I'll be working an office job for the next 30-40 years or so.
And I mean, it's fine. I'm grateful for my job, I like it, and I love the idea of HR. It may be that I need to explore taking it off the beaten path, out of the office. That I need to look more into work from home HR jobs, or maybe even something entirely unrelated. Web design? Graphic design? Finally writing one of the 40 novels I have in my head?
The problem is though, in the end, I don't have a passion for those things. What I want, really, is the freedom. The sleep. The ability to not have to go in 9-5 every day. I'm happy to do the work, I am. I think I just wish there was more flexibility to it. I find myself often jealous of many of the housewives I follow on twitter, who work from home, or work primarily on the home. It's hard work, but I feel like in the end it would be more rewarding, somehow. Not that my current work isn't rewarding. It's just…different. I feel like I need a change.
Looks like the laptop must be going off soon. On the plane now, by the way.
I don't know. I don't know what the answer to this is. I don't know if it's about changing jobs, changing careers entirely, or winning the lottery. It may even just be about finding a shorter commute. A job where I could leave the house a few minutes before work, instead of an hour and a half. Where I could leave my desk and be home in a few short minutes; start on dinner at 5:30 instead of 6:30.
K, off we go. Not sure I'll post this. We will see.
Editor's Note: This was written a while ago on a plane and never posted. Going through old posts and thought I'd throw it up now.