I can't seem to be bothered. And as each day goes by, I feel more guilty about it, which is not very logical or productive. And, evidenced by some the blogs I follow (but for how much longer, am I the only one who doesn't understand this impending Google connect business?), I'm not the only one feeling this way during February.
In a similar modus operandi, I'm still sort of reading The Tiger's Wife by Tea Obrecht. I felt like the writer needed to tell a lot of very detailed background stories to set up for the one she really wanted to tell, so the beginning was kind of long and drawn out. But I feel like I'm on to the real tale now, and it's really good. I'm enjoying it a great deal... in a slow and lazy kind of way.