I have book club tomorrow and I haven’t read the book. This is a huge deal because I’m one of the founding members of the Book Club Babes and I ALWAYS read the book. I admit to skimming parts of a few novel choices I didn’t quite finish but I’ve always absorbed enough of the material to contribute to the conversation. Tomorrow evening, however, will be different.
Two weeks ago I was in a car accident. Pretty serious, but the full story itself is worthy of it’s own blog entry. Anyway, since then I haven’t been able to concentrate long enough to “fall” into a story. My doctor attributes this to the fact I haven’t been able to reach REM sleep since the event. In any case not being able to read has been more traumatic than the crash itself. Reading has always been my escape. Escape from the loneliness that sometimes arose from being a kid on a farm and having no friends in the immediate neighborhood to play with (when the sisters just didn’t make the cut as playmates). Escape from peers during junior high when everyone had boyfriends and cleavage and I couldn’t contribute anything of substance to those pubescentile conversations. Escape from the pressures of marking foot high piles of English essays for work. Now, I have no means of escape.
I know it will come. In time. I’ve thought about faking discussion tomorrow. Pull a “Trevor”. “Trevor” was a high school kid I taught a couple of years ago who used to google his book title then attempt to wing a book report. Poor guy though, he always picked titles of books I had read and therefore could grill him on specifics. Eventually he’d pull out his charming, dimpled smile, admit he hadn’t really read the book and stoically take an “incomplete” until he was prepared. I’m pretty sure I won’t succeed in pulling a “Trevor” with the BCBabes.
I could divert attention away from the book itself. There’s a lot of news to catch up on:
” Maura, tell us about your fabulous trip to Ireland”.
” Jenn! Congrats on your engagement! Tell us EVERY detail about the proposal.”
” Chris, I think you should share your underwear story with the rest of the group.”
Then again, I could just pour myself a glass of Cab Sav, sit back and enjoy the discussion that will unfold around me This will be my escape. Sinking into the camaraderie and comfort that comes with being with a group of tried and true friends who really won’t judge me on how prepared I am to discuss the stylistic integrity and historical accuracy of “the Glass Blower of Murano” but rather will be happy and relieved that I am there…