Reading my feelings

What a funny year for reading. One victim of the CRUSHING EXISTENTIAL ANXIETY that permeated 2020 was my attention span.

For a while, my ability to concentrate on reading was completely absent - given quiet time and a book in front of me, my brain would just start spinning into pandemics and elections and, well, everything else. Thanks, brain.

Eventually I browbeat my brain into a bit of focus, but, even then, my reading was limited:

I could read ‘work-related’ books. My brain understood that work...