April 2013.
Just spent an hour wafting through some of old posts I made on my other blogs. When taken together they represent a rather unique freeze frame of my life, which seems to be comprised of 1) trips to Denmark 2) essay writing 3) reading and 4) complaining, which strikes me as a rather accurate rundown of my endeavours these past eight or nine years. Fitting, then, that I am sat here trying to put the finishing touches to the next chapter of my doctoral thesis. When I used to blog fairly regularly I would comment on what I was reading at the time, but one of the big differences between then and now is that while I tend to read a lot more in terms of research, I seldom get to explore new authors that do not fit within said research. It's a matter of making the best use of the time available and while I do dip in and out of new finds every now and again, it's not the same when you know that there's a 400 page tome that needs to be dealt with.

Having said that I have just started reading Kant for some reason. Now, of course, everyone should read Kant, or so I have been told, but I came the realisation that I really am missing out by not at least trying to familiarise myself with Special K. So the elves at Amazon have sent me a couple of books which are sitting downstairs by the sofa. You need to find the right spot to really appreciate a good read. I read in bed, but I tend to read generally quite easy stuff then so that it doesn't keep me awake. When I'm in my nerd cave I focus on texts for research purposes, but the sofa is special. The light is good, you can lie back and read propped-up on a cushion with a glass of something and the cat sleeps across the way which is always a nice little distraction.