Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett

I found this play jammed amongst other classics at the library booksale. Since I've heard/read it referenced in several places, I figured it was worth a read. It was my first absurdist play, and I believe it may be my last.

As an aside, this post marks book number fifty for the calendar year. If you care to recall, I estimated that I would read that number in twelve months. Through some happy turns of events, I have been able to embark on some much needed self-education during these first six, which has meant much reading of very different types of books. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on your attitudes toward formal education), this period is about to end, and my reading will become much more topically focused as I start my graduate program. Some of my books for my first semester recently arrived in the mail, which means that my somewhat carefree novel and nonfiction reading will be curbed. However, there is still much "pictorial literature" to come; the pace and variety might just slow down a bit come August.