On reading a book.
I still find myself here in sunny Bensalem, Pennsylvania and am amazed at how a slight change in your environment can improve your productivity. In-between bouts of enjoying the beatific silence in the area, a silence that is only interrupted by the occasional shriek of a young child enjoying the beginnings of summer vacation, I actually read a book.
It was one of those old-fashioned things filled with paper pages and bound between two covers, in fact. I don’t, by any means, want to imply that I am not an avid reader, but as of late all my reading has involved me staring glassy-eyed at my computer monitor. It was such a nice change of pace to lie down in a warm but breezy second-story room and while away the entire day reading. I feel somehow more civilized.
My impromptu vacation has already stretched longer than I had originally intended, but both the fear of another long bus ride and the pleasant affect the area has had on my nerves are conspiring to keep me here longer. Of course, my hosts might be seeing the situation from a whole other angle.
Maybe I’ll return home tomorrow, then.