April 20, 2007
One of the advantages of having a wife who’s out of town (with the dogs), and no TV, is that it has really helped me to start catching up on my reading list. So I sat down with James P. Hogan’s The Multiplex Man tonight. It’s a pretty fast-paced story (sort of sci-fi/thriller meets “The Bourne Identity”), weighing in as an easy 370 pages. I think I started reading about 9 PM. And finished it around 3:30 AM.
So now I’m stuck. At this time of night, I can’t go to sleep, or there’s no way I’ll have the willpower to get up in time for work tomorrow. It’s not like I’ve never pulled all-nighters, but that will leave me groggy tomorrow and throw off my sleep schedules for a few days. I used to be able to do this sort of crap with impunity when I was in college, but as I near 30, it’s not quite so easy.
Of course, what do you do at 3:30 AM on a Friday? Thankfully I don’t have a TV, because I won’t have to complain about the fact that there’s nothing on. So I found myself dismantling my keg (as I finished off my batch of Sierra Nevada-inspired pale ale the other night), cleaning the whole system. I’ve been through enough kegs now that it’s about time to replace the dispense line, so it needed to be done. Now I’ll probably wander through the house organizing stuff, maybe start answering some work emails, do a little blogging, perhaps reorganize my CD collection in alphabetical order of lead guitarist’s middle names… You know, the usual. I’m sure it won’t be long before I put a pot of coffee on, while I wait for the sunrise.
I have a tendency to do this. Specifically with fiction, I have a severe aversion to putting down books. It’s an addiction. I pick up a book, and it takes over life for several hours until I get to the last page. My parents used to worry about me growing up, because I’d pick up a novel at 8 AM, read continuously until 6:30 PM, and then wonder why I was so hungry. It seems that it had something to do with not eating during the course of the whole day.
As I’ve gotten older and busier, I’ve tended to shy away from reading 8+ hours straight. The occasional times I’ve picked up 600-page novels make it far too hard to devote that much continuous time to a book. And I’m sure when the baby comes, I’ll be happy to get more than 10 minutes at a time. But I’ve never quite understood why I do this to myself. The book would be there tomorrow, I could easily have stopped about midnight and still gotten a nice full night’s sleep. But instead, here I sit, wondering how to pass a few random hours where I can’t sleep and have little useful to do, I’m beginning to wonder whether continuing to read a midnight, when I still had half a book left, was a good idea…
The Unrepentant Individual linked with Book Review: The Multiplex Man, James P. Hogan
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