I think it’s high time I put up another random post. And to that end, I must confess before you all that I am a compulsive reader.
What I mean is that if there is legible text within my view, I have to stop and read it. It doesn’t really matter if I’ve read it before. It doesn’t matter if it’s insanely boring. It doesn’t matter if it has any relevance to my life. Must… read…
I didn’t quite realize that it was anything out of the ordinary until I caught myself on the road once, compulsively reading license plates. Since then, I have caught myself compuslively reading all kinds of bizarre things. One time Christine and I read every single word on a half-pint milk carton — including the lot numbers and ink tests. You know, those weird letter/number sequences that are printed in four different colors? Yep, we read them, and then analyzed their differences.
Sometimes I compulsively read out loud. Usually around Christine. Sometimes I find myself reading the ridiculously oversold advertisements in the junk mail. Other times it’s a magazine cover. Yesterday it was a can of tuna.
I wish I could say I was kidding about that last one.
So the moral of the story is, if you ever need to get ahold of me, point some printed text at me. You will almost certainly gain my immediate rapt attention.