J is for Just One More Page

My Favourite Things: Just One More Page

One of the things I got into the most trouble over when I was a kid had to be books.  Being a kid who finished work very quickly, I went through a school system that didn't really encourage students to find other work to do when they were finished their assigned work, so naturally, I was often bored.  Left to my own devices, it certainly didn't take me long to get into trouble during those early years, looking for something to do.  I can't even name the amount of times I had to sit in a corner or by myself or stay in at recess or write lines because I didn't have anything to do.  I wasn't allowed to read, I just had to sit there and wait until everyone else was done.  And for a rather precocious and active kid, that wasn't going to happen. 

The miracle happened in grade three when I discovered that my teacher never checked to see if I

actually went to the principal's office when sent there because I got into trouble.  I brought a stash of books from home and hid them at the bottom of the three-story staircase, along with a pillow I had swiped from a classroom, and whenever I got sent to the principal's office for talking or disturbing others, off I went to the staircase, crawled under the stairs, and read for about an hour.  I would return to class, and in response to the teacher's "Did you see the principal?", I would respond, "Oh, yes, he made me write lines and sent me back to class." and she never knew what I had done.  That's when a bigger problem began:  The problem of the JUST ONE MORE PAGE syndrome.

The Just One More Page Disease was acquired about this time and it has never been cured.  My forays under the staircase lasted only about thirty minutes at first, then eventually crept up to over an hour because I had the Just One More Page Disease.  Then the symptoms began showing up at night.  Oh, no, what was a poor girl to do.  Because the symptoms were so severe, I had to give in or else the pain of not knowing would last all night long and I would be a basket-case in the morning.  However, the Just One More Page Disease eventually wore down my immune system as I wasn't getting enough rest and I remember my grade four year being the worst when it came to being ill.  After purchasing a flashlight with my pocket money, the Disease reared its ugly head and became a huge problem.  Soon it became the Just One More Chapter Disease and I knew I was in trouble.

Unfortunately, the Disease is still around today as I find myself reading into the wee hours of the night, knowing I have to get up early the next day, but totally incapable of closing the book as I Just Have to KNOW.  Dear readers, I'm afraid I will never be cured and this Disease will be with me until the end.  Should I be afraid?  Should I worry? Should I be concerned that this Disease has seeped into every aspect of my reading life? Should I seek a cure?  Should I be afraid of passing on this Disease to my children (although that might be too late considering the number of phone calls I have had regarding my son reading during math class)? I guess the answer would be: Hell no!!!  Bring it on!! In fact, I think I will go embrace the Just One More Chapter symptom right now, even though it's bedtime, as I just have to know what happens next.  Cheers, everyone!!