I finished a book, a real book, for a change, and it feels fucking fantastic

The book was called My Boyfriend Wrote a Book about me, whatever, I started reading a year ago since it came with the Nook I'd bought during the first round of lockdowns and never gotten around to finishing it because it was too horny etc, but I was far too bored and not very into using my cellphone because I'm so sick and tired of the same old boring sites so I decided to stick to the old reader this time around. It's a decent book, but more importantly I felt so goddamn proud about finishing a novel for realsies for the first time in who knows how long, months, maybe years. Gotta read more of 'em.