Somewhere in this mess, I became a book worm

I remember hating my English classes in junior high with a passion. When there was an assignment to read a book, I was the kid that watched the movie. If there wasn't a movie to be found...I would skip every couple pages and get my information from peers that actually read the whole book.

Somewhere over the past two years, I have developed a love for reading. I suspect the main reason why is the awkward co-worker lunch. I have really come to hate eating with the people I work with. This is probably due to the fact that they are all double my age, irritate me daily with their inability to operate anything technology has produced and some have the worst manners I have ever seen. I wont go into detail, but let's just say, I now understand what people mean by the saying "were you born in a barn?". They get to me, all friggin day. So naturally, I want to spend as little time as possible with them. I started reading in the park, over my lunch hour. As my imagination builds a picture in my mind, frustrations from work just melt away and I am immersed in the characters and their story.

While reading "Only Nuns Change Overnight by Karen Linamen", I found that some things were so interesting that I'd share them with people. Except, not knowing the rest of the book, said people weren't interested. So I started a book group. Yikes! I felt awkward about starting it. Wondering if people would think I was weird. Well, I am weird to begin with, so really, that doesn't bother me. But starting a book group just doesn't sound like me.

The first day this book group met, was great! We all had fun talking, sharing our opinions and listening to others. After it was over, I realized that I didn't want to start this group just to read somthing with them, I used it as an excuse to socialize and spark some deep conversations with people I trust and respect. So far so good. We are reading The Shack, by William Young. It's interesting...to say the least. There are times when I love it, and times when I'm not so fond of it's message. But it's a very descriptive book. As I read through it's pages, I daydream the scenes, making it seem more real. It reminds me of when I was little. I'd get ready for bed, and be so excited to drift off to sleep, because once I was asleep, my mind wandered. Bringing pieces of the day together, in strange ways sometimes, in color and so much detail. I guess reading and pictureing the scenes from a book is my dreamworld, in adult form.