And I love it and I love the characters and the plot line and everything around me seems florid and whimsical even though I'm taking a calculus test tomorrow. I can't wait to envelope myself into the tragedy and I can't wait to finish it over the weekend and have time to digest what happens despite the fact that I have a bazillion other things planned but I will read it on the metro and snicker at the funny bits and cry at the sad bits and I won't even care if people look at me strangely because I'll stand up and say "Ladies and gentlemen, this is how you write a book!". And I won't even care if they think I'm psychotic, because sometimes I think I am.
I can't wait to stop caring about college and school and simply enjoy basking in the sun on a Saturday afternoon and sprawl out on my deck and gently turn the leaflets one-by-one with my neighbor's dog howling obnoxiously in the distance. I simply don't care because I have a good book.
