all that i do or don't do

I tell myself that i read. In fact, i don't. I borrow books from friends and family and at libraries, i carry them around in bags and purses, i talk about them, i put them in order and look at the covers when i try to tidy up in my room and my dream is to work in a library or even better; in an antique bookstore. But i can't recall the last time i read one. Instead, i spend all my free time in front of the internet or together with my mum. My mum is to me what my wife, Anne, was to me in Reykjavík. A woman i live with that i'm able to spend hours and hours drinking tea and talking about men with. Maybe i should cure my heterosexuality and get a real wife one day. To drink tea with.
Talking about tea, yesterday i got a new favourite one: Sir Williams! Mixing Earl Grey and Lapsang Souchong, why didn't i ever think of that? Yummy. If you are in Göteborg you could find it... ai. In a store with soaps, teas and oils on Haga Nygata.
Anyway. I was thinking about reading a book by Vladimir Odojevskij that i got from Mamma (she got an e-mail from her friend who is in St Petersburg now, living on Nevjskij Prospekt, how i envy him! Would anyone like to go with me to Russia in spring? I'm afraid i don't dare to go alone), have anyone read him? Mid-19th century author. I need some booky guidance right now.

"Have some wine", the March Hare said in an encouraging tone.
Alice looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it but tea. "I don't see any wine", she remarked.
"There isn't any", said the March Hare.