This morning was nothing but ordinary. I slept past my alarm and barely made it to work on time. This has been the habit for as long as I remember. I have come to acquire a lot of bad habits, yet the worst of them all has to be my passion for words. Yet worse, verbosity . Well spelt, pretentious, cynical and sesquipedalian terms are my favourites. It all started in my early years, when I began exploring the magnificent world of books. I owe it all to my second grade teacher, who was always pushing my classmates and I to read. By the age of 9 I was probably Penguin Books' favourite customer; I had ordered almost every children's book by post, including an encyclopaedia. At age 12 I had read each and every book at my school library - yes, Encyclopaedia Britannica included. That was my little secret. My teenage years had to be the worst period of my life. But in my mind I was living in another world, with Jane Austen, William Blake and Louisa May Alcott. I was lost in the beautifu...