Pleased with my haircut, I've spent the rest of the day reading A Discovery of Witches. There's no point in reaching page 1623 and calling it quits when the end is at page 1811 (of my nook, of course). Still, it feels like The Book That Would Not End. I've read some fairly heavy classics that were more enjoyable than this. I think that the points of witch vs. vampire, ignorance vs. knowledge, time travel vs. the present are far too drawn out.
I've eaten more than I ever should this weekend. It was burgers from Five Guys with my son at noon, and now I've just barbecued a pork tenderloin to have with cole slaw for dinner. Sitting, eating, reading are some of the finest pleasures in life, but surely they must be taken in moderation.
When I finish A Discovery Of Witches you'll probably hear my cry of victory wherever you are. Even if it's across the sea.
