After a year of my reading challenge, I have finally reached the end. In 2015, I set a goal to read 50 books and although it was a sluggish beginning I read a total of 25 books. My reading list had a mixture of cat stories, old stories, some tedious stories and some great finds. The majority read were, no surprise, cat-themed cozy mysteries.
Even with the Weekend Wednesdays, I was only able to accomplish half my goal. The problem I’m having with reaching my goal is it’s set too high. With my social obligations and time spent gaming, it’s just not possibly for me to read that many.
But the goal wasn’t always about hitting 50; it was about dedicating myself to reading more books and discovering new worlds.Continue reading
As I sat drinking my Martinelli’s apple cider and waiting for midnight, I checked Facebook and saw the outpouring of recaps of the year from friends and family. Some were very heartfelt while others were total eye-rolling clichés. But what did I have to add? I looked at the draft of my latest blog post written about 2015, and decided not to publish it.
The draft was melancholy attempt to summarize the year as one the worst so far, only second behind the ridiculousness of 2010. Working less than full-time haunted me daily and the fear of being a disappointment as a wife weighed heavily on me. Last January, I was ten months into my marriage and felt like I had let my partner down. But Joey and I got through it and turned it around. As mentioned in my earlier posts, we had lunch together on my extra day off and I started this blog.
It was Joey who pointed out that I was so focused on the negative events that occurred in 2015 that I forgot about the extraordinary ones.