1. You're calculating how many pages you have left and the rate at which you read. Only three more hours until it's done? I can handle that.
2. You opt to clean the bathroom instead of read. Even worse if it's laundry folding.
3. You decide that reading a stack of mediocre essays written by a group of newbie AP Language students might be "more fun."
4. The book acquires a thin layer of dust as it sits on your nightstand (or chair, in my case).
5. You tell yourself if it's read by a certain day you can end the two-month cupcake-free streak and get one on the way home from work.
6. You debate practicing this "speed-reading" thing you've shunned so much in the past.
7. You consider offering one of your brighter students extra credit to read it and write the "guest review" to appease the publisher who is bound to start sending the lovely "just checking in" emails any day.
8. You wonder what the dogs (especially the big brown one) would do to it if you "accidentally" left it in middle of the floor while you were at work during the day (ala Marriage Plot style from yesteryear).
9. You find yourself sitting in front of you bookshelves staring longingly at all the other books you want to start reading. There may or not be tears or head pounding on the wall.
10. You keep saying "I'll wait twenty more pages and see if it gets better." Dysfunction at it's finest.