Back at the very end of October last year I was super stressed at work and needed something comforting and interruptible to read so took Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice to read during lunch. I hadn’t read it in years and yet I slipped into it smoothly and easily. Whenever I had the chance to read it I was immediately soothed and I was whisked away. Calgon has nothing on Jane Austen.

Then in January I started a new job. My stress level plummeted. After I got a public transit commute routine going I decided to take Jane with me. But, alas, my already falling apart mass market Penguin edition began losing pieces of itself with every trip. So Jane had to be left at home. Since I was also in school, at home reading time was severely restricted. I had only time for a chapter here and a chapter there.

Finally, on Saturday, with about 80 or so pages left, I luxuriated in the remainder of P&P. Callooh! Callay! What a frabjous book! When I closed the cover after the final sentence I was so happy, so satisfied. I caressed the disintegrating book gently and sighed.

P&P is back on the shelf now with a few new underlinings. There she will wait, very likely several years, before I pull her down again for the fourth, maybe fifth re-read, I have lost track. Unfortunately, though I have several good books on the go, none of them can compare. I feel like Mr. Darcy must have felt at the first ball in Meryton. Nonetheless, bring on the zombies!