You know what my problem is? I forgive myself too much. I give myself too much leeway when it comes to the things I have to do. I believe my excuses when I tell myself, "I'm too sad; it's weighing me down and I need some time to be pointless." I feel too sorry for myself because I think nobody else is going to do it for me.
It's just something I realized when I was tallying up my books from the beginning of the year up to this point. My original goal was to read 50 books (an average of 4 books a month). As of now, however, I have read only 24 books. That's not even half of my goal, and it's already October. By my calculations, I have to read 8 books every month for 3 months to achieve my goal.
I already know I'm not going to reach that goal, but I'm hoping I'm at least close to it by December. The sad thing is, I definitely could have reached my goal if I hadn't spent so much time making excuses and believing in my petty lies. Too much time was spent pointlessly browsing 9gag and not enough time reading a book. And I bought so many books this year, too. I hope by the time December rolls around, I've read at least 40 and next year, I hope I can fulfill my goal for real.
I just finished reading The Mark of Athena (feeeeeeeeeeels) and I'm halfway through The Red Pyramid. At least I'm out of my reading slump.
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