Another year has already come and gone. I can’t believe it. I still can’t believe that I read all 52 books in 2019. I was filled with doubt and, mostly,  annoyance at myself. But then, after I finished, all I felt was pride, and a little tired. 

On December 31, 2019, at 12:04 PM, I sent my sister this text:

I actually started reading this book before I picked up The Christmas Star. I was only 10 pages or so into this one when I set it back down. Then when I picked it back up again, I started over. It only seemed right. I don’t often start a book and stop for another, but decided that Christmas was an acceptable night to do so. 

On Christmas night, I put on How the Grinch Stole Christmas (first the animated version, which was then followed by the Jim Carrey version) and settled in with a comfy blanket. I was in the mood for a Christmas themed book. Luckily, I had one on my shelf. I mean, truthfully, I only have one. This was my only option. I picked it up, and by the time I went to bed, I was half way finished. It was exactly what I wanted to read.

Every Friday, theSkimm recommends a book. I look forward to it every week. I reckon all but one a month make it onto my “to read” list. This Friday, I beat theSkimm! What a day. Last week at the library, I picked up yesterday’s recommendation. I am impressed with myself to say the least.