I am sitting here hooked up to an IV drip of Alpha men. Over the weekend I read the 3rd and 4th installments of the BDB crack, and am nearly finished with poor Vishous. I must get the new release! I hear there is lots of Rehv. Oh yeah!
Here's the thing. When I become engrossed in a book or a series I become rather reclusive. All I want to do is read. I want to immerse myself in the characters and their world 24/7. I want to experience it all, take it all in. And lord help you if you call me on the phone and expect me to talk to you. I AM BUSY!!! Can't you see that? (Oh wait, you aren't here. That is why you are calling.) Please don't bother me right now, I am busy trying to maneuver an unplanned moment between V and Butch.
I know that I get this way. You would think, after 31 years, that my mother would have picked up on this, too. Nope. Instead I get the voicemail saying, "Are you alright? Is there a reason you are not talking to me? What is wrong?" (Please keep in mind that only three days had passed since we last spoke.) How do I explain to her that I am being haunted by hot, angst-filled vampires? She does not read. She would never understand.
This bleeds into other parts of my life. Grocery shopping? That SO did not get done. Laundry? Let's just say that putting together outfits this week will be a challenge. House cleaning? Just don't walk too close to the dirty dishes. ew. I just can't help myself. What would you do given the choice between hand washing dishes (no dishwasher in my apartment) or reading about V and Jane? I rest my case.
So please. Go. Away. Yes, I'm talking to you. All 700 of you children that I am supposed to be teaching this week. Why are you still here? Why can't you leave me in peace with the Brotherhood? Oh. Yeah. That's right, we still have a week and a half of school left. Damn. Well, just sit in the corner and be quiet. Rhage and I have some canoodling to do.