Friday, October 2, 2009


Yesterday evening I took a trip to Borders. I wanted to get a new book to read because I literally have like… 5 books. And I read those five books over and over and over. But, I was too overwhelmed with options. And I’d read the backs of novels and I found myself getting really angry and frustrated.

Roberto, on the other hand, would just pick up a book and decide he wanted to read it. He’s always buying books (he gets more packages delivered to the office than anyone else) and he’s always reading something. Betsy always carries like 3 books at once, and so does Evan. Everyone’s always reading a thousand books – and I can never settle on one.

I wonder, “What if I don’t like it? Then I bought this book that cost money and I’m not going to like it or touch it ever again.”

But the real reason is… I’m jealous. I literally can’t read anymore because I’m jealous. When I read awful books, I don’t get mad that I spent the money on it – I get mad that this person published a book and I didn’t. I’m mad because I know I could write a book, but I don’t do it. I’m jealous of all these people who have books in stores with covers ready for the judging – and I’ve got nothing.

It’s weird because that’s not like me. Not the getting jealous part – that is very me. But, I pride myself on being very proactive. I wanted to do improv, so I took classes and continued to do it and moved up the ranks and I’m now in three groups and I couldn’t be happier (improv-wise). I wanted to write a play, I wrote it. It was produced and put up and it was great. So, if I want to write a book – why don’t I just do it?

Maybe I will. But I can guarantee, it’s one that none of you will want to read. Because it is going to be about tiny little bananas that can talk.

No comments:


Related Posts with Thumbnails