|Here's a free fucking plug.|
I'd attempt to lay out a rational argument that I'm not insanely jealous, except fuck that shit, I'm insanely jealous.
I'm happy for Jenny Lawson, really and sincerely. Because in my own cramped and unheralded way, I'm a writer, and I totally dig how thrilled she must be today. Getting one book published is fantastic. Getting a second published (after the first was a runaway success) is...I don't even know, I can't imagine, it's beyond what my inferior mind can imagine.
I hope she enjoys the shit out of it, for herself and on behalf of those of us who have no hope of approaching, let alone equaling her success.
But hey...it's not as if I don't appreciate what I have, right here in Baudelaire World.
I mean, sure, The Bloggess had a book released today, which is sure to become a best seller, just like her first book. She's getting tons of press coverage and will probably appear on talk shows and whatnot, because people love her and everything she writes.
But I...I...I got a tetanus shot today. And a Pap smear. I got to hear a physician's assistant say, from between my thighs and with a speculum in her hand, "Looks like you may be starting your period."
|I mean, this shouldn't be funny, yet it is.|
I got to deal with foundation contractors and cracked concrete and realtors. I got to sign electronic documents that I didn't even read, because I don't even fucking care what they say any more, just sell my goddamn house, please.
I got to stay late at work to download PDFs to individually numbered folders that took me half a day to set up. MY IRL JOB IS GLAMOROUS AS FUCK, YOU GUYS.
Once I got home, I got to listen to my almost-ex whine about co-workers who are not nice people. And then I got to endure berating when I didn't express sufficient sympathy for his problems.
And then I got to hear that clearly we need to divorce because I don't care about his problems enough.
So yeah. I didn't release a book today. After all, The Bloggess is an amazing writer and I'm just a middle-aged bitch who doesn't know what the fuck she's doing.
Probably I'll buy her book in a year, and read it and love it, as I did with her first book.
Best wishes, Jenny Lawson. From the 50,000 or so bloggers who deserve and are waiting for (and most likely will never get) their chance to shine.
Feel fortunate today. Because you are.
I'll keep writing, just in case.