It won't last, I promise

My reading style is a little different. It's been this way since I was little. Generally, my first read will be incredibly quick. I'll get the plot and little else. If I like what I saw, I'll read it again. And again. And again. So what begins as a cursory skim ends up being a very thorough read.

Today I was re-reading Birds of America by Lorrie Moore, and found this passage. It describes how I'm feeling of late.

There were moments bristling with deadness, when she looked out at her life and went, "What?" Or worse, feeling interrupted and tired, "Wha--?" It had taken on the shape of a terrible mistake. She hadn't been given the proper tools to make a real life with, she decided, that was it. She'd been given a can of gravy and a hairbrush and told, "There you go." She'd stood there for years, blinking and befuddled, brushing the can with the brush."