Sigh, sigh, sigh. My never-ending quest to find validation, a sense of identity, fame, fortune and flawless skin through my vocation really never ends. I had hoped the new job would serve the same function as a marriage in a Jane Austen novel or a Shakespeare comedy -- capping off the plot neatly with our heroine snug in the arms of her beloved. And the fact that the beloved in this case is a newspaper didn't even bother me one bit.
However, life is stubbornly unlike a Jane Austen novel and I'm struggling to find things to love in this new job, which involves not enough writing and far too much work that will one day be performed by computers or monkeys. (I'm hoping for monkeys, because I think they would really liven up most workplaces, if only we could get them to knock it off with the feces-throwing for a while. But it will probably be computers. Drat.)
Anyway, speaking of primates, here's a link to a fantabulous story by Tom French about the life and death of the king and queen of the zoo. (Fantabulous=cross between fabulous and fantastic. See, this is what happens when I don't get published often enough -- I get frustrated and start to make up words.) Tom French is an awesome writer, and apparently was in the midst of a long project on the local zoo when all this drama happened and he wrote this amazing story. The story is so amazing that I am able enjoy it whilst choking down my bitter, ugly jealousy at the fact that he was doing a long term project about ANIMALS AT THE ZOO, which is probably my No. 2 dream story right after something involving a lot of puppies, and IT SHOULD BE ME, DAMMIT. But no. So this is the first in a (hopefully not overly long) series of stories entitled, Stories I Would Have Written If Everyone Around Me Would Just Acknowledge How Totally Awesome I Am and Stop Being Jealous of My Coolness, Because You Know They Totally Are And That's The Only Thing Holding Me Back. Yeah, I know it doesn't really roll off the tongue, but it's a step up from my other imaginary series entitled Stories By People Who Are Totally Not As Good Writers As Me But Got Their Sweet Jobs Through Nepotism And Whom I Will Expose NOW.
So see, it could be worse. Enjoy the primates -- sans feces throwing.
However, life is stubbornly unlike a Jane Austen novel and I'm struggling to find things to love in this new job, which involves not enough writing and far too much work that will one day be performed by computers or monkeys. (I'm hoping for monkeys, because I think they would really liven up most workplaces, if only we could get them to knock it off with the feces-throwing for a while. But it will probably be computers. Drat.)
Anyway, speaking of primates, here's a link to a fantabulous story by Tom French about the life and death of the king and queen of the zoo. (Fantabulous=cross between fabulous and fantastic. See, this is what happens when I don't get published often enough -- I get frustrated and start to make up words.) Tom French is an awesome writer, and apparently was in the midst of a long project on the local zoo when all this drama happened and he wrote this amazing story. The story is so amazing that I am able enjoy it whilst choking down my bitter, ugly jealousy at the fact that he was doing a long term project about ANIMALS AT THE ZOO, which is probably my No. 2 dream story right after something involving a lot of puppies, and IT SHOULD BE ME, DAMMIT. But no. So this is the first in a (hopefully not overly long) series of stories entitled, Stories I Would Have Written If Everyone Around Me Would Just Acknowledge How Totally Awesome I Am and Stop Being Jealous of My Coolness, Because You Know They Totally Are And That's The Only Thing Holding Me Back. Yeah, I know it doesn't really roll off the tongue, but it's a step up from my other imaginary series entitled Stories By People Who Are Totally Not As Good Writers As Me But Got Their Sweet Jobs Through Nepotism And Whom I Will Expose NOW.
So see, it could be worse. Enjoy the primates -- sans feces throwing.
posted by Rebecca at 9:01 PM
1 Comments:
Can I join this club? Why don't people realize that we are the next Pulitzer Prize winners or the next best-selling Young Writers of Our Time or at least the next Talented Interpreters of Everyday Dramas Involving Non-Famous People and Small Animals.
Meanwhile, I will validate you, even if I work at a fake newspaper. You are one of my fave writers, so hilarious and brilliant, and I will read as many of your words as possible. You have brightened my days in Greece so many times I think you might be credited with saving my life, o Sedarisarian one.
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