Books and Boxes

In the calamity of the last few days, picking up a book to read has been low on my priority list. I'm  still working my way through The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. It's so weird because I find the writing so poetic and beautiful, as if they perfectly match the beauty Dorian yearns to keep, but I can't finish it as quickly as a book I am really invested in. I think because the majority of what is written is so impactful requires me to take breaks and return to it later. Or dyslexia is kicking in a bit stronger! 

Instead of reading, I have been packing up my dorm in preparation of moving out, as well as helping my friends do the same. Currently, I am writing this with my quarantine buddy, Ziggy, aka my dog, in my lap. I made it "home" (the third culture kid struggle) to London yesterday, and all I've managed to do is sleep and watch series 2 of The Circle UK (trash reality TV but they're also in quarantine pretty much). The show has me longing to do a puzzle in my time of self-isolation–something I never thought I'd say.

For my unofficial English major duties, before I left, I gave books to my friends that "want to read but never have the time" because now they have no excuse. Of course someone got sent home with The Stranger by Camus. Someone else got Slaughterhouse-Five. And I picked up an extra copy of Losing Earth by Nathaniel Rich, which I am really excited to read, for my writing minor friend. I'm currently staring at the pile of books on my desk, which made up my entire carry-on suitcase. Makes me miss my bookshelves in Barcelona (partially pictured below with my cat).

On a different note, which, if any, English classes are people planning to take in the fall? Rather than keeping up/ahead with my current school work, I have turned to my favorite form of procrastination: planning.