READING three books at once can be confusing: Wait, why does she have a wife? I thought she has a husband and kids. Oh. It’s the other book’s author, and not this one. Whew.
But that doesn’t stop me from multi-reading whose current batch is composed of Dan Lyons’ “STFU,” Anna Maxted’s “Getting Over It,” and George Orwell’s “Animal Farm.” The last two books I’m re-reading this time, to see if I still want to continue keeping them.
I have many books to re-read which I hope I’ll be able to give away because only libraries can keep so many books. Even bookstores are closing up shop already.
The Booksale branch at Robinsons Cagayan de Oro, for one, will be saying goodbye soon. Which prompted me to go to its SM City CDO Uptown branch to ask if it will follow suit. Deep sigh of relief when it said no, not yet.
How timely, though, for some bookstores to stop operating since I’ve decided to stop buying books. With so many of my old books that I have to re-read, I believe I’ve already read all the books that I need to learn from. There’s no point in buying more and reading variations of the same topics over and over again which will only make my reading habit as some kind of a sirang plaka.
Reading has always been one of my coping mechanisms, along with writing, watching movies, and eating.
But eating had to be removed from that list when I began my low-carb journey in February 2022. It’s difficult to be a glutton once there’s satiety especially in the carnivore diet.
It’s the carbs that are easy to gorge on since their point of satiety doesn’t exist. Or, if it does exist, carb cravings will return with a vengeance after an hour or so when the sugar rush is gone. Thus, the possibility of having at least seven meals a day which include the snacks in between meals and the midnight snacks before sleeping.
Compare that to the OMAD — one meal a day — and TMAD — two meals a day—of a low-carb and carnivore dieter.
So, eating has been replaced by gyming. Yay.
“STFU,” which is the only new book among the three I’m currently multi-reading, is something I can relate with. STFU means shut the f*ck up. I was laughing so hard while reading its first pages which define the talkaholic. Because that talkaholic is me. No wonder I’m a columnist.
Better write about anything under the sun instead of talking about anything under the sun while physically under that sun. Which I actually did many months ago with someone I didn’t even want to talk with.
Are all columnists talkaholics? No. Some of them are even introverts, that’s why they prefer to write. I think I’m an ambivert—I can be the fly on the wall in any situation, observing people while I’m with them, and when I’m far away from them. Haha.
