Summer is notoriously a time to essentially veg out, a time where your mind is left to deteriorate as you’re left unconcerned. I hate taking people’s word for that – trashy ’summer’ books, for instance, really just irk me – and yet I find the enthusiasm for the online thought-pieces I once lauded (right in this here blog!) eluding me and I’m just more content hitting the random button at Dinosaur Comics and giggling away my nights.
However, that’s just internet and I’m more than happy to immerse myself in The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay which is so, so good and unlikely to be thrown in the ‘beach reads’ pile. Which is perhaps some consolation, but still I can’t place myself back in the academic context again. Ew, academia – I have no excitement for you. Perhaps the ’summerbrain’ as I’ve termed it is getting to me. Well hey, I guess I’ve got a month to sort that all out.
My sister told me straight up today that she thinks I spend too much time online. It wasn’t really in a scolding tone (Sister darling, if you’re reading this – you’re merely a launchpad) but rather a perplexed one, citing for instance my tendency to babble about the numerous blogs I read/lurk. Due to some recent developments in Firefox functionality (this lovely plugin has made all my desired daily reads somewhat more of a reality), the genius of StumbleUpon and a newfound adoration for podcasts, this pastime has become more constant – if not, more fleshed out.
While she certainly has a point, the fact that I’ve been reading the same book since goddamn May was my first clue (and it’s not the book! Noo! In fact, Catch-22 is most definitely headed for my top 10 once I finish the damn thing), I can’t help but think I’m actually getting something out of this whole thing these days. Relating to personal blogs is exhilarating and reading thought-pieces from Slate or the Guardian (among others) just feels so good.
All I can think to do is to read my next day off away in bed with my laptop stowed securely downstairs. I hope that’ll work.
