About Getting In and Out
I hear this phrase sometimes: “It was hard to get into.”
Other times I hear this one: “It took a bit, but once I got into it…so good.”
Our moods are all over the place. Generally. And specifically. Everyone’s a freaking tumult. So I get it—there are times, points when certain things just take too much time and effort.
We want to escape, right? Don’t make me think. If I wanted to work I’d be at work. My brain needs a break.
These are all acceptable thoughts, to some degree. But sometimes, give the meatier stuff a chance.
So you lose a few hours, at worst. I remember trying to read some old Charles Dickens book, maybe Bleak House or something. The title tells you all you need to know about that one, far as I’m concerned. But I gave it a shot. When the feeling started coming, the one that says put it down, I kept going.
And then I quit.
But the point is—I resisted that first urge.
Nobody can tell you what you’re going to like, but the you that starts a book or series or film isn’t necessarily the you that will finish it.
So don’t you go ruining it for yourself.
Get it? I think that made sense.