Teared between the two

I have realised recently that there are two things that I like: my job, sometimes, in certain respects, and reading books.
I thought whether I would like to give up my job in order to have more time to read, and I realised that I might like it for several weeks, and the holiday might prove sufficient for that.

However, there are moments, this being one of them, when I truly regret I do not have enough time to read the books that I have started a few months ago (well, more than a few...).

I have started (meaning I've read about 20% of it:)- I know, I measure like an auditor:) ) Shalimar the Clown, written by Salman Rushdie. I have often heard about this autor before, and never been tempted to read anything of what he wrote. And one day, browsing through the books in a bookstore in Luxembourg, I've come across this smallish book, thickish and with an interesting cover. I realised it's written by Rushdie, and I decided to buy it, so I wouldn't have to say I have never read a book by Rushdie. A long time had passed before I actually took it off the shelf to read it. And after I had read the first pages, I decided it was not far from boring... but then I fought my way through it, and at some point, it caught my attention.

Since then, I look at it constantly and never get the actual physical time to immerge myself into those pages...I will let you know how I feel about it by the end and hope this will come sooner rather than later:).