I have been trying to finish this book for literally three years. A friend brought it along to a beach house vacation in Oregon and I started reading it one misty morning on the deck overlooking the ocean. I read for hours and made very little progress. I enjoy Dostoevesky's writing but it's dense and I kept losing track of my place and re-reading the same paragraphs.
I suppose my physical state could be to blame for my inattention. I caught a cold just before we left for Oregon and wasn't feeling well all weekend. I only watched as my friends partook in the International Beer Festival. Later we went swimming in the ocean and I got hypothermia. It was July but the Oregon coast tends to be pretty chilly.
After swimming in the ocean for almost an hour we headed to the grocery and my perceived temperature kept on dropping. I was standing in the store with blue lips and I was shivering like crazy. I couldn't think straight and my motor abilities were pretty bad. My friends took me back to the cabin and stuck me by the fireplace with a drink while they played games and had a grand time. Looking back we didn't really handle it well but at least everyone still had a good time and I came out okay.
Status: Dibbed
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