I’m not going to be doing much until Monday, then I’ll catch up with all the posts I have due. I’ve decided to give myself four days off, just to properly give my old bod a bit of a treat after the hammering it’s taken the last couple of weeks. I suspect that I won’t actually clock out right now, but I seriously don’t have the energy to do much more than read some blogs and hit a like button or two. I’m reasoning that now I’m starting to feel a bit human again, I’ll be munching a bit more than I have been lately, and so should be ready to resume the zooming in a couple of days. My usual guilt at not being around much lately tried to kick in, but this time I whacked it on the noodle. Sometimes you just have to slow right down, or you’ll end up falling properly on your bum, and those hard falls can be hard to get up from. So. Holiday mode day one of four.
I have been reading blogs around and about, even though I really don’t have the energy to do much else, and I’ve noticed a lot of fuss about adults reading YA books, as in Read whatever you want. But you should be embarrassed when what you’re reading was written for children.. Pardon? Since when should anyone be embarrassed about what they choose to read? I’ll read whatever the hell I want to, thank you very much.
It seems rather pathetic to me to try and fit what you read into such specific sizes. That’s all very well for clothes or shoes – you will most certainly look like a tool wearing a giant babygro in your twenties, so yes, wear adult clothing, but the thought of someone saying that now that you’ve hit a certain age, you must read literary books written specifically for adults makes me cross. What you read, and when you read it, is entirely your business, and also dependant on how alert your parents are. I had read Valley of the Dolls, all of Jilly Cooper’s books, and quite of lot of REALLY adult books by the time I was thirteen, and now that I couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than a pucker adult, I not only enjoy reading YA books now and then, but I still revisit Beatrix Potter, and other childhood books too.
What you read is entirely your personal decision, and you should never be embarrassed about it EVER. What next? You will ONLY wear red undies on Mondays, because pink is NOT for grownups. Naah. Down with all these Must Do police popping up all over the place.