Yesterday, I did something very unusual. Instead of reading books for self-improvement, which I do all the time I read a book just for pleasure. I had a copy of “Annie Leibovitz at work” back in Prague, but I read just separate parts of it. And yesterday I took a day off from my routine, stayed at home and read the book from cover to cover. And I felt incredible happy. When was the last time that you felt like that?
The only thing that would probably make me even happier is if I had the chance to read the book in a beautiful place like this one. That’s the perfect place for reading, don't you think? It is a part of a small guest house, but I found this corner so aesthetically beautiful.
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