/lit/ - Literature

>be me
>been on holiday for almost a week at parents' house
>watch the heckin tennisino (want djokovic to beat Nadal)
>go to the gymerino
>get back home, waste time online, sleep
>wake up at 10 am this morning
>waste time on internet in bed
>get out of bed, feeling less motivated than usual to read
>read the latter half of a history book chapter on post-roman commerce in Egypt / Byzantium
>stop reading after less than 30 minutes; tell myself I'll go for a walk at an early time today to see more daylight; I'll go right after I eat
>eat food; binge; waste multiple hours online
>go for my first aimless drive for many months
>was going to read in the car while drinking coffee but browsed internet instead
>now too dark to read; listening to Blink 182 in my car on the YouTube app; may go jogging and play vidya after driving home

Since Monday last week I haven't had any junk food on 8/10 week days. It has been confined to the weekends. I drove to that supermarket that I used to go to and post about how it was so shiny in the late evening and it felt like being in a Refn movie.

I was going through boxes of books at my parents' house that I have built up over the years. It's mostly novels. I really don't give a fuck about almost all of them. I don't feel ashamed of the entry level stuff like Palahniuk, BEE, etc. But I really give no fucks about New Yorker tier modern fiction or post modern novels. All those hours spent reading were a big waste. I should've read 80 % less books and learned to be a producerbull.

Djokovic and Nadal are literally dabbing on tennis in this weak era. Trophy printer go brr!

Apart from worrying about my future promotion prospects at my large corporation, and work, I have no real purpose. I waste all holidays and time outside work.