At some point you’re required to put down the book and pretend to be a functioning member of society.
But the entire time you’re a wreck.
A huge ball of intense nervous-anxious-excited feelings sits in your stomach and chest. You can’t stop thinking of the book. Or when you’ll be able to read it next. Everything and everyone is pissing you off, ’cause you JUST WANT TO READ and why can’t they all JUST GO AWAY!
But you’re trying. That’s what’s important.
And, maybe, at lunch time, you’ll get a horrid case of food poisoning and have to go home early. Curl up in bed. Undisturbed. With your book.
Hey, a girl can dream, right?