I could have alternatively entitled this entry 'The Curse of a Good Book'. Today was really rough both in terms of the level of pain and the fact that half my brain cells took an unscheduled vacation; the joys of not getting enough sleep and having fibromyalgia. I only got a couple hours of sleep last night. The pain of fibro and the spasming of that stupid seizure disorder kept me up even with the pain meds and phenobarb but fortunately it wasn't bad enough to keep me from reading.
My current easy read is Kelly Armstrong's Industrial Magic, the 4th book in her Women of the Otherworld Series. It's well written and a good book in of itself but I started to read it and found out that I needed the background in book 3, Dime Store Magic, to really understand what was going on. That one was good too.
4 hrs later I finally couldn't keep my eyes open anymore thank the Goddess. Only a few hours after that the best husky puppy ever, who I could have cheerfully tossed out in the nearest snowbank, except for the fact that she'd think it was some new game and enjoyed it way to much, woke me up by knocking over piles of books and driving the Purr-cat, aka Purim, aka The Tribble, nuts. Of course the husband was dead to the world for which I was both glad and could have tossed him into that same snowbank I wanted to toss the dog into and I guarantee he wouldn't have enjoyed it nearly as much. Anyway, after getting rousted out of bed and tending the fires I wasn't able to get back to sleep so I spent another several hours reading until it was way too late to get any sleep and still have anything of a day to work with. Like I said, the curse of a good book.