Nerd Nightmare

Last night I had nightmares all night long. Considering what's been going on in my life, you would think my brain would have come up with something a little more topical or relevant that this:
I kept dreaming over and over again that I would be doing household tasks or moving into a new apartment (sometimes these dreams were set in the past) and I kept finding overdue library books! They were everywhere: in drawers, closets, under the beds, in kitchen cabinets. I would frantically flip to the little card pocket and search for the due date, and sometimes it would be months past! It was all VERY dramatic. I do have a bad habit of checking out 20 books at once and then stressing myself with trying to keep track of all of them.
I am a little bit of a binge reader. I devour books without stopping to think. I choose books that are satisfying for the moment but not really nourishing to my mind. I read them without stopping to really chew on them, and before I've had the chance to digest one, I move on to the next book. Sometimes I read three or four books at once. Since I don't stop to savor any one book, I really have little memory of what I read, and they all start to run together. I have probably read 15 books in the past 4 weeks, but I don't think I could tell you the name or author of more than 3 of them. I am not really reading to enjoy or to feed my mind but as a temporary distraction, shovelling one after another in a hurry to just get through. See? Binge reading. Thankfully, I don't purge afterwards. What would that really entail? Where is this metaphor even going??? Hmmm. Actually, I guess I do sort of purge afterwards, because I dump the books from my brain after finishing them. Very few of them make it into my memory, just as very few foods that are purged make it to the colon (wow, this is really GROSS). I used to read higher quality books, but since having kids (because let's just blame everything on them!) I don't have time to concentrate. So I have had to dumb down my reading selections a little, a lot. It's hard to read anything very literary when you are being interrupted every 45 seconds. My kids never bother me until they see me sitting down. I could stand and stare at the walls all I want, but the minute they see me trying to focus on something, they suddenly need Mama. Give me another year, and I'll be reading tawdry romance novels.