How Reading Ruined My Life


It’s true. Reading has ruined my life.

I caused great physical discomfort to my family when I locked myself in the (only) bathroom in the house with a book, emerging only when one of them hammered at the door and told me to get out of there.

I have suffered financially from vast amounts spent on library fines, at bookstores, and at bookstore cafes.

I have wasted valuable time missing stops on public transport because I’ve been reading.

I have caused myself embarrassment by laughing aloud in public, or, worse, weeping.

Injuries have been sustained by family members tripping over books left on the floor.

Doing taxes, cleaning the house, emptying the cat’s litter box, doing good works, etc. have all taken a second place to reading.

My physical beauty is ravaged by paper cuts and the tragic effects of falling asleep with a book in my hand/or in some bizarre position best suited to reading rather than sleeping.

I would rather read in the bathtub than clean it.

How has reading ruined your life? And what is currently your ruination of choice?

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