I sat down in my private reading room this morning and grabbed a magazine I wanted to catch up on. Yes, we still get magazines, printed on paper, and delivered to our mailbox, just like in the olden days. We are, or can be, old school. Anyway, this is something new or I should say renewed, that I do. I had given up reading in my private reading room some years ago. No, it wasn't the coldness of the porcelain, or the distraction of the aroma, although I do have to say the lighting is great. No, it was my doctor who told me to quit reading while sitting on the toilet. Hemorrhoids were the problem. The doctor told me it was only aggravating my hemorrhoids, so I quit. I took all the magazines out of the bathroom and as a result my hemorrhoid situation improved. As a bonus I was able to cancel a few magazine subscriptions that I didn't need. I recently started reading in there again, but with a basic rule. I can sit there and read, but as soon as things have worked themselves out I must put down the magazine and wrap things up. What irritated me this morning was that Mark had read the magazine I had picked out, before I did. When it was time to put the reading material aside I could not find a decent bookmark. Usually I grab one of those blow in cards that come with all magazines and use that to mark the page I'm on, but Mark had tossed them all out. So I had to improvise with a bent corner and the magazine folded to the page I was on. Yes, I know, it's kind of a crappy thing to be bitching about.