One...Two...
There were the fast-readers, who always finished standardized tests first, were consistently three chapters ahead in (the driest of) textbook assignments, and who effortlessly summarized Shakespeare sonnets as if it ain't no thang, and then there was everyone else. I fall into the latter group (only semi-proudly so), and as I currently creep my way (at a snail's pace) through my first read (ever) of The Great Gatsby, I find myself back in my middle school mentality, competing (and falling extremely behind) my imaginary classmates who are already skimming the optional analyses while I have yet to actually meet Mr. Gatsby (in "fictional" person), two and a half months in. I blame (not myself but) our unforgivable reliance on technology (torn between our eventual introduction and mingling with the waitstaff of Dowton Abbey), while simultaneously forcing myself to read as little as a single paragraph (as I did long ago) so that one year from now I can (finally) participate in the dinner party (class) discussion. Enjoy!
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