I love having a good, fluffy book -- either absorbing fiction** or popular history not in my field*** -- to read in bed for half an hour. I'd gotten away from this over the last god-knows-how-many years, when I had first netflix, then hulu to distract me. And I honestly believed that the last thing I wanted to do at the end of the day was read another book.
But you know what? I was wrong.
**Read: nothing that will "improve" me. Booker prize winners and "important new voices in literature" can stay away from my bedside table, thank you.
***Current Example: The Professor and the Madman. Linguistic geekery! Murder and mayhem! No footnotes, and no reason I should care!