So here I am with some (snake entrapment-related) time to kill and nowhere to go. I'm bored of TV, don't really game, not in the form for writing tonight. So that leaves me with two, equally valid, forms of entertainment.
I can surf the printed page or the flickering screen.
Time was, many moons ago,that I ate books up with a spoon. In the period after school, through college and all down into my public transport years books were the mainstay of my entertainment when I wasn't in the cinema. Now, the web won out hands down.
Maybe it's because my current book isn't exactly gripping me, but then how many since The Time Traveller's Wife have? Maybe it was the awareness that it had been a day or two since I was here, maybe the need to snake update (he still hasn't showed his allegedly hungry little arse, thanks for asking).
Maybe it was the evils of social networking (you know 7 of us are on Facebook and yet few are friends there. Interesting.)
I just hope this isn't a long, slippery slope. I'm one of those stupid people who gets depressed from time to time in bookstore when I realise I'm never going to get to read all the books I want to read in life.
Or half of them, or even a hundredth of them. Every moment I squander at the keyboard consigns another one to the "never to be read" pile, and yet I do.