There are always the go-to programs like a 6th binge of Breaking Bad, or a 2nd binge of House Of Cards. There are shows I never made time for like Treme and Shameless.
But I was thinking maybe it's time to tackle a more intellectual pursuit. Reading. Schopenhauer once said, "We buy books because we believe we're buying the time to read them." If that's true, I've bought myself a lot of time.
On the nightstand next to my side of the bed, which with a wife and two dogs is getting increasingly smaller by the minute, is no less than 27 unread books. I bought every one of them with the intention of cracking it open when I got home from Barnes & Noble.
And yes, I still buy books and I still go to bookstores. Never read a book on an e-reader, never will.
Here's the thing: I go on book jags. I don't read one for a while, then I plow through six or seven in a row. Even when I'm short on time, when I'm on one of the jags I make a point of reading a chapter when I wake up and one before I go to sleep.
Admittedly it requires discipline. Which explains the giant stack of unread books by the bed.
But I've been at a place for a while where not only do I know how Walt and Jessie wind up, I also know every event, character and line of dialogue that gets them there. So it's time to read.
Maybe I'll start with Walt Whitman's Leaves Of Grass, the collection of poems Hank was reading in Gliding Over All, the eighth episode of the fifth season of Breaking Bad. The one where he's on the toilet when he discovers Walt is actually Heisenberg.
Alright, maybe one more binge and then I'll get started on the books.
