Eight years later? Really? I'm done. I'm sorry. I can't. Don't hate me.
I just don't get the appeal. I feel like I'm being told a story by a wannabe bad girl teenager. "And then this happened. And then this happened. And then this. But then this happened."
I think 2013 is when I've finally, finally learned to stop reading a book I'm not into, regardless of how long I waited to borrow it.