To put a fine point on it, delayed gratification has never been a strong suit of mine. Unless it’s something I want with the fire of a million wish lists which necessitates waiting, I’ll usually go for the closer, more immediate reward.
However, the other day I picked up two books I’m planning to read on my trip to England next March. That’s a little over three months. That I will have books in my vicinity. That I’m not allowing myself to read. For three months.
I’ve decided to put them in my closet underneath some pleather hooker books because a) if reading isn’t sexy, what is? and b) if I can’t see them on a daily basis, I won’t be tempted by them. Hopefully.
Thankfully my local library is reopening this week after some much-needed refurbishing, so I’ll have that lifeline.
This is going to be tough!