In books, movies and TV shows I always find that one person that reads in bed when they are ill or facing a horrible time like it is their escape. Sure enough when you're ill and have nothing to do and so much spare time it would be the perfect scenario and the perfect time for a reader to read their little hearts out. For me that is out of the question. Recently I have been more or less heartbroken over stupid reasons; yes one of the reasons was a boy therefore I was so incredibly sad that just leaving my room felt like an impossible task. So reading would have been amazing, it would have given me the much needed time to fall in love with new characters and a new world. However at the moment all of my books are romantic, the book I'm still currently reading although it's a great book and I absolutely love it I can’t seem to want to read it while in my miserable state. I would much rather read a real, hard hitting truth book than a teenage romance while I’m gloomy and lashing out at everything.
The fact that I have been a heartless walking zombie for the past two weeks or so isn’t the only reason why I cannot seem to be able to read. I have been dealing with a dreadful cold that gets better for a day and comes back with a much bigger punch. So the fact that my head is thumping away making my eyes sore, while I’m coughing up quite possibly my lungs and trying to keep down any cold medicine I muster to take; reading has not been at all on my mind.
Even though I miss sitting in my room until my muscles tense up and cause me pain I enjoy my little time alone with a favourite novel. The is no doubt that I would love nothing more than to pick up my book and continue where I left off but I would rather not have to keep pausing every other page to muster the little energy I have left to cough; or have to deal with reading about happy couples and everyone’s lives being together when my world seems to be falling apart all around me.