I have a confession to make.
I don’t listen to music with lyrics when I read.
Not because I’m trying to be mysterious or like I belong in a curated Instagram reading nook with perfectly stacked books and a candle that costs more than my grocery budget – but because I’m self-diagnosed ADHD and lyrics turn my brain into a karaoke stage I never agreed to perform on.
But here’s the twist: I also cannot read in total silence.
So yes. I live in a very specific kind of chaos.
We’re talking curated auditory conditions only, please and thank you.
Somewhere between silence and a full Broadway soundtrack, I’ve built a reading life that actually works for my brain. And honestly, it took me a while to admit that my “normal reading environment” doesn’t look anything like what I once thought it should.
And speaking of learning things the hard way, I also used to try reading in an office breakroom which, in hindsight, deserves its own cautionary tale.
So… let’s talk about it.
The Breakroom Chronicles (or: Why I Gave Up on Public Reading)
Once upon a time, back when I had an office job and fewer emotional boundaries, I tried to be a “lunch break reader.”
I even made an effort. I picked a table far away from people. A strategic table. A “no one will bother me here” table.
Reader, they bothered me there.
For some reason, the moment I opened a book, I became a social magnet. Not a subtle one either. People didn’t just approach me. They projected conversations across the room like I was hosting a live podcast called “Please Interrupt Me Mid-Chapter.”
So I learned something important:
If I want to read, I need the right environment. Not just hope for one.
So I’ve learned to stop guessing and start choosing. Here are the five spaces where reading actually works for me and keeps me coming back for more.
Night Reading: The Cozy Shutdown Protocol
My number one reading scenario happens at night.
I crawl into bed. My loyal reading companion, Percy (my dog and emotional support fluff unit), takes his place beside me like he signed a lifelong contract.
The TV hums in the background, just loud enough to count as “not silence,” but quiet enough that I don’t actually absorb anything happening on it.
Perfect.
Kindle in hand. Blanket positioned with surgical precision. Brain slowly powering down.
This is where I read until I drift off mid-sentence and wake up at 2 a.m. with my Kindle resting on my face like it, too, gave up on me.
Early Morning Reading: The Ritual of Becoming Functional
Early morning reading is not casual. It’s a full production.
First, I walk the dog. Percy supervises.
Then I make coffee like I’m auditioning for a slow-living commercial.
Then I do my Bible study, make my bed, find my favorite blanket, and only then – only then – do I allow myself to read.
I usually play classical music or an ambient YouTube channel that sounds like “forest rain meets gentle optimism.”
This is my most disciplined reading window. I feel like a very organized Victorian woman who definitely owns too many books and possibly judges people for fun.
Outdoor Reading: Main Character Energy (Minus the Drama)
On a good day, I take my reading outside.
I queue up a springtime classical playlist or a “music for readers” station on Spotify and settle in with my feet up and the sun doing its best to heal all my problems.
This is peak reading life.
Birds chirp. Breeze cooperates. I pretend I live in a cottage somewhere far more picturesque than my actual zip code.
For a brief moment, everything feels like a book cover.
Crochet, Embroidery, and the Audiobook Multiverse
If I’m working on crochet or embroidery, I switch modes entirely.
This is audiobook territory.
And yes – I count audiobooks as reading. I will not be taking questions at this time.
I pair it with soft YouTube ambience (no lyrics, obviously), and suddenly my hands and my brain are both busy in the most satisfying way.
It’s multitasking, but make it cozy.
Sunday Afternoons: The Holy Quiet Window
After church on Sundays, something magical happens in my house.
Everyone disappears into their own spaces.
The living room becomes mine.
I bring my blanket. Percy joins me immediately, because he respects tradition. I turn on soft ambience, and I read while the house settles into that quiet, golden pause between obligation and the next week.
It’s peaceful in a way I don’t always know how to explain, but I definitely try to recreate it emotionally on weekdays.
The Future Library (a Loft Full of Possibility)
Now, here’s where things get exciting.
We have a loft in our home that currently functions as… a yarn storage situation. A very chaotic, very colorful yarn storage situation.
But I’ve started planning something better.
Little by little, I’m turning that loft into a library.
Shelves. Cozy seating. Probably too many homemade blankets. Definitely more books than reasonable logic would suggest.
I’ll share more as it comes together, because this feels like one of those “becoming the person you didn’t know you were building toward” projects.
And honestly? That’s the best kind.
Final Thoughts: My Reading Rules Don’t Have to Make Sense
So yes, I don’t read in silence.
Yes, I curate my background noise like a DJ for introverts.
And yes, my dog is part of my reading routine.
But I’ve stopped trying to make my reading life look like anyone else’s.
Instead, I’ve built one that actually works for me – ADHD brain, noisy preferences, emotional support blankets, and all.
And honestly?
That’s the only kind of reading life worth keeping.
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