Anyone who’s been in close proximity to me these last nine months knows I’ve been struggling, sometimes epically, to get through this damned biography on Einstein.  I’ve lugged that 600 page book to work & back, over the mountains, to job interviews & the grocery store and I even recently pondered taking it with me on the plane. (Considering the thing weighs 50 pounds & nearly requires its’ own set of luggage, I fortunately decided against it.)

Why did it take me 9 months to finish one measly book you ask?  Normally I consider myself to be a relatively fast reader, but the main topic in this monstrous work of literature besides Mr. Einstein himself, was his science; a topic which immediately slows my brain & reading comprehension to a sloth’s crawl.  I’d struggle through the thick murkiness of relative theories & mathematic formulas, barely grasping what I was reading and questioning whether the book was even in English.  Then, on top of this, my OCD kicked in which forced me to find it necessary to read the footnotes as well, all 30 pages of them.

Needless to say, it was quite the task but in the great battle of freewill & desire versus borderline psychopathic perseverance, my stubbornness eventually won and I did finish the book.  I even learned a few things, such as the name of the undertaker who performed Einstein’s autopsy & who likely would have remained anonymous in the archives of history had he not stolen Einstein’s brain.  Or that Einstein gave his Nobel prize-winning money to his ex-wife so that she would finally grant him a divorce so that he would be able to marry his cousin.  All tasty anecdotes for my next intellectual soiree.

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