I am about to make a post about a recipe I haven't yet perfected and a book I haven't finished. While some of you might be scratching your heads or picking up your phone to furiously text me about the indignity of it all, please, allow me to explain.
Reading and cooking are alike in that they are two activities some people consider a chore and others consider a pleasant past time. (Then there are those of us weirdos who consider them plain out fun, but we don't need to go into that right now.) When doing something you love, or even remotely find tolerable, there are going to be times that you don't quite measure up to what you had imagined for yourself. For me, nothing perfectly encapsulates this battle more than Infinite Jest.
I have nothing against this book. I have nothing against David Foster Wallace. In fact, from what I've read of the book, I find it challenging and well-written. But for some reason, I cannot bring myself to chew through this book the way I have with so many others. But that's okay! Because taking my time with this one is fine. I'm allowed to say I'm still reading it, and I'm allowed to take ten years to read it if I want to (but I won't! I swear!).
The other thing that's okay, as much as it pains me to admit, is that I have not yet made a perfect batch of macarons. I've made three batches that tasted delicious and ranged in looks from passable to plain yuck. Yes, my eye is twitching as I write this.
The point is that life is too short to worry about doing things perfectly and finishing every book you start in three days. Go forth, read what you want, and bake your best life.