One thing that surprised me, looking back on last year, was the very little reading of prose I did.
Sure, I read an awful lot of comics and graphic novels, but only about 5 or 6 novels (and one of those was Harry Potter). This is completely unheard of in my life so far. Usually I get through books by the dozen each year. Most of my reading is done at night. Half an hour at the end of a day is one of the best ways of winding down that I now of, just that marvelous feeling of curling up and nestling into another world - wonderful.
I imagine it had everything to do with the complete lack of time and how utterly, unbearably busy I was last year. There just never seemed to be enough time, never enough energy and there was no way I could survive, working on various things until far too late, the collapsing into bed ready to get up in a scant few hours to face a new day.
But this year has started a lot better. Time is kinder, workload has reduced (or has buckled under my resolve to partition workload much more effectively anyway) and I'm reading again.
Of course, given that I hadn't kept up with my reading, the bookshelves are currently overflowing with unread books. Twenty two at last count. It's no wonder I've been on a book buying ban for a considerable amount of time. But that may change eventually. As long as I keep reading that is...