At my desk.

Thinking about how i haven't read a book since i started working from home. i don't know why. is it the book. is it the space. is it me.

i would normally say 'me'.

people have been oohing and ahhing about the work-from-home biz. but come every saturday/sunday and i wonder what happened during the week. it all feels seamless. where did it all go. i'm sure i'll say otherwise once a commute starts.

the 'not reading' is worrying. what happens when i retire? my sister says she will only sleep. i don't think you can sleep too much, i can't sleep at night. what happens to everything and everyone else when you sleep. they will want food and etc.

i was wondering if the lethargy was due to the aimlessness of my day. then i found out there was a practical reason. anemia. it won't make me read a book. but perhaps the doc can stick some iron into me and, maybe, something may move... forward.

not reading is worrying though.

i once thought reading children's books in your adulthood was worrying. until i reasoned, that i'd read more adult books than children's books in my childhood to make up.