I’ve read five books this week. Five. It’s an odd thing of which to be joyful. There was time I’d easily read over a dozen books a week. It was a regular occurrence in the past when I ran a review site. For the past seven years I’ve barely managed to read a dozen a year. To read five in one week. Inconceivable.
A beloved friend believes my reading this many books in one week is a sign. It means psychologically I’m returning to a better state. Less stressed. Confidant. Sure of myself. Creative.
At this point, I’m not overthinking it. I’m merely rejoicing about reading five books. It’s a nice number: five. Who knows…it might become my new favorite number.