It comes to mind again because after spotting the hummingbird on Sunday, things went downhill immediately thereafter. My enthusiasm for reading The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks plunged when I discovered it’s filled with more than injustice, which I was steeled for. What I wasn’t expecting was the heartache imprisoned on page 84 and the evil given free rein on page 111.
I closed the book, practiced deep breathing. But it wasn’t enough. I needed a dose of Happy, so I took a spin through a few dog blogs. Among the atrocities I happened upon was the report of the Michigan university med student who moonlighted as an Italian Greyhound serial killer. (Yeah. Did your face just scrunch into its “Seriously?” look? Mine too. Even as I write this.) No Happy available.
On Monday it was time to return my library books. I could have, perhaps should have, dropped them into the drive-through collection slot. But having little discipline where books are concerned, I walked them into the building—where I couldn’t help glancing at the New Arrivals. I promptly removed one from the shelf. Then it didn’t take long to turn this one selection into a stack of selections. Now I’m on a reading schedule again.
I’m putting off slipping back into Immortal Life, I know. But I prefer to think of it as “building stamina for tough reads.” I prefer to think of it as coming to terms with living in an Almost Humane Society.
[Artist unknown.]
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