Denial. Excitement. Procrastination.

I'm beginning to think going back will be fun, but every time I look at the pile of things I want to bring, I silently will them to pack themselves.

Not working.

So instead I stubbornly bury myself in books. I've discovered that the post-traumatic stress of reading scholarly articles is reversible, and I have a renewed interest in reading for pleasure. Marathoned my way through The Hunger Games trilogy, then The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, and now The Importance of Being Earnest (which, I never realized, is hilarious).

You might say I'm reading like someone who won't be buying books [in English] for quite some time ...