Thoughts about.. reading

I learned to read very early in life; probably about four years old. My grandmother read to me.  She and my mother were readers, and as we like to say "readers raise readers"They taught me to read.   As a result, I have a degree in English and work as an Management Analyst at the library.

I am currently reading a book called "The Girl who Reads on the Metro"  so far a strange quirky book  which I am enjoying.  HOWEVER, I find myself doing the English Major thing of analyzing the themes and the underlying meaning of everything.  Does the bookseller represent God?  the Devil?  Is the bookstore Heaven or Hell?  See what I mean?   Sometimes, having an English degree can ruin the pleasure of a book as you critique sentence structure and character development; look for symbolism where there is none.

Sometimes I have to remind myself of the quote ( probably wrongly) attributed to Freud:  "sometimes a cigar is just a cigar"

I'll let you know how I feel about the book.  It's a slim novel, but I am only reading a chapter or two at a time.  I read in bed, my guilty pleasure.  At one point in my life, I was not "allowed" to read in bed, so I really savor that peaceful end to my day sometimes. Reading releases the tensions of the day from my brain, which has a tendency these days to wake me in the middle of the night with the most inane questions.  I resist grabbing my phone form the nightstand, however, to see  who played that character in that movie or who wrote that book.  Turning off my brain is harder these days and reading at night helps.