So, this year was a bust. I kind of knew it would be: Hubby was gone and I was single-parenting, which means I don’t sleep well and the girls demand more of my attention. (I thought at ages 15, 11, and 9 it would be better. It’s the 9-year-old that still needs me.)
There’s a someecard that sums up what happened this weekend, but for the life of me, I can’t find it. Which also sums up this weekend.
Everything that could go wrong (from a daughter throwing up due to dehydration to a crisis with friends) did. Well, maybe not everything: The house didn’t burn down. But, every time I pulled out a book to sit down and read, it felt like I either fell asleep or someone needed something.
I shouldn’t complain. I did finish two books I’d started and read three other ones, so there’s that.
And I got in 11 1/2 hours of reading and 45 minutes of blogging/social media. (More or less. I realized while writing this that I wasn’t especially diligent.)
In retrospect: I should have started later on Friday and spent more time today reading. I think my numbers would have been higher overall if I had.
At any rate, I gave it a go. And maybe next year will be better.