I started reading that stupid Harry Potter book last weekend.

I finished this morning. At about 3. At least it wasn’t like the last 11 or 12 Harry Potter books I read, where all life around me ceased to exist until I was done. It’s like someone putting a fresh pizza on the counter when I’m dieting. Eventually I smell it and - after a brave three minutes of self-control - I throw myself at it face first, occasionally coming up for air, snarling, with sauce smeared all over my face like a lion working over a zebra. I didn’t lock myself in a room and ignore everything around me this time - though it did make me two hours late for work yesterday morning. And, of course, I’m delirious from lack of sleep today.

I won’t discuss its relative merits or whatever - obviously I enjoyed the stupid thing. Therefore, I won’t ruin the ending for anyone who hasn’t finished.

Oh screw it…everybody dies.

Just kidding….

Maybe.