Guys. I was supposed to be reading NONSTOP as soon as summer hit. And yet, here I am, 2.5 weeks into summer vacation and I’ve only finished one measly little book. (Orphan Train, it was pretty good, totally happy with it).

But! BUT! I should have read a plethora of novels by now–I should be tearing through the shockingly tall stack of tomes taking up space in the living room (and the stack in my library and the smallish stack by my bed and the few that are strewn around the kitchen and dining room and the several that are stashed in various purses and bags…).

I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed. It’s not that I haven’t had time to read, per se, but it’s also a little bit that I haven’t had time to read. I’m on vacation from school, sure, but I’m still putting in 4 days a week at the winery. I have my remaining Saturdays off, but the first two were spent on 12 hour catering shifts.  My Mondays and Tuesdays are spent adventuring with Kyle (wineries, hiking, breweries, theme parks, and camping galore!)

And at night we have plans or there’s a new episode of Unreal that I need to watch or we’re catching up on Orange is the New Black and Daredevil, and sometimes it’s just easier to sit back and relax and let someone else tell me the story instead of reading it for myself.

And that’s fine. It’s really okay. People are allowed to have reading slumps and to be lazy and to give in to the joys of really good television. But it’s been 2.5 weeks. I only have 6.5(ish) to go before I’m back at school every day and falling asleep by 9 PM every night. I have a box of amazing books from a publishing friend, I have a virtual stack on my nook with recommendations from my favorite reading pals, and I have a #24in48 readathon coming up on the 23rd.

Summer reading starts NOW. Who’s with me?!