Where's my reading time, dude?

For as long as I can remember, I've been a book lover. One of my favourite ways to spend any of my time, I'd read during any spare moments I had and would frequently finish one book only to dive straight back in to another.

I've been home from Spain for 5 days now. During this time, I have mostly been steam-cleaning my house (when I'm not at work, that is) ready for us to put it on the market. Do you know what I haven't been doing during any of this time?

That's right. Reading.

There used to be time when, if I wasn't getting any reading time at home, I could at least guarantee half an hour a day during my lunch break. Sadly, in my brave new Midge-less work life, it seems lunch breaks are a thing of the past. 

I also used to get a guaranteed block of at least one hour when I got home from work and before I cooked tea. This is now taken up with staying at work, and then fitting in a burst of housework before I cook tea. 

With plans for every night after work this week, it's starting to look as though my next block of reading time will be at the weekend. If I'm not still sorting out the house, that is.

As I'm currently a quarter of the way through the last book in what's been a brilliant, thrilling trilogy, if I don't get to finish it soon it's entirely possible that this will be TheShitWizard that everyone gets to deal with for the foreseeable future:

I never thought I'd be glad to see football back on the telly, but as it's now my last reading respite I'm praying to all my gods that it's on constantly for the next six months...