i will do literally anything to avoid getting my work done. i turned in a new book a couple months ago, and my editor just sent it back with all of her notes and corrections (“haha this is basura why u keep repeating the same six jokes u hacky clown”), so now is the time for me to attempt to make it better while trying not to burst into shame flames. i made it through exactly one essay before getting up to go lie down and feel sorry for myself. is the book good? i don’t know! i just read the sentence “in 2002 i was aggressively looking for people to mate with” on page 15. is that a good sentence from a book you would buy? are you interested in imagining an old dog with hip dysplasia attempting to have sex?? why am i only on page 15???

here’s all the shit i’m clicking on that’s definitely not work-related:
-ask polly, forever and always, because heather is too fucking good man
-PERFECTION, as usual, from reductress
-every installment of why your team sucks on deadspin because i’m sorry but drew magary is just one of the funniest writers of our time and i will never shut up about it?
-this cut piece about how maya rupert gets shit done because literally all i ever want to know is how people manage to do what they do?
-especially when it’s like here are my rugs and my plants and this is the place i like to get a $27 cortado in the morning etc etc
-but especially especially when it’s a person explicitly detailing the face cream they use or whatever and you get to see a half-empty lotion jar posed in their bathroom I CANNOT GET ENOUGH OF THAT KIND OF SHIT seriously pretty please tell me about your kombucha enemas i wanna know!
-i really love to endlessly read about a show i just watched
-this guardian article about lindsey and bobby from who? weekly
-should i get these eyeshadows? i won’t, because i never wear eyeshadow, but one of my favorite things is to look longingly at eyeshadows and pretend i don’t have severely sensitive eyes that respond to eye makeup by immediately turning it into gooey soup that inevitably winds up in my mouth
-making new friends as an adult??? BITCH HOW
-candles are tough for me because despite my advanced age i have the patience of a sleep-deprived toddler, and the entire point of a candle is that you pay seven million dollars for a nice one and then it makes your gross house nice for months but i always want to get new candles before the old ones are even halfway done anyway i have 12 of these rosmarino ones in an internet cart lmao yikes!!!!!!
-an ode to speckle!!
-luke o’neil’s super smart and incredible newsletter
-doreen on koffee and jia on the testaments and this fascinating piece about superfans
-i just got a pair of these warby parker glasses and immediately started looking at getting them in another color because they are so fucking good
-katie jane hughes instagram
-grifting!!
-this vulture interview with liz phair about her new memoir horror stories
-this excellent excerpt from keah brown’s memoir about how much a bitch loves a goddamn chair
-a very good essay on divorce by cameron esposito
-nicole cliffe’s care and feeding column

books
i posted a picture of a stack of library books that i’m probably going to go to jail for returning late on instagram, then immediately got an urgent email that some other holds had come in and i better go pick them before, what, they give them to the next person on the list? why don’t i know how that works?!
anyway, one of the books waiting for me was city of girls by liz gilbert. and i know people have lots of opinions about her, and about eat pray love specifically, but lmao shut the fuck up. who cares? oh, you don’t like it? then don’t go to italy, you hating ass bitch! stop meditating!! can you imagine, oh i don’t know, GETTING MAD ABOUT A BOOK YOUR AUNT JUDY LIKED? who has the fucking time! i’ve veered off course but the point is this: i started the book during the debate last night and so far it’s great.

now about those library books:
a particular kind of black man tope folarin
the world doesn’t require you rion amilcar scott
campusland scott johnston
the helpline katherine collette
the perfect fraud ellen lacorte
say nothing patrick radden keefe
evvie drake starts over linda holmes

i am hoping that the ticking time bomb of impending due dates inspires me to turn off the tv and focus but did you know there’s a new british baking show season? so we’ll see, i guess.

snacks
it’s still hot which means i’m STILL SALTY that it’s not yet stew season. which is fine because when i’m editing (read: sitting in the dark, laughing at my own jokes) i don’t like to eat real meals so i have a reason to act like a bratty tortured artist. i haven’t cooked anything interesting lately, but i did get a bag of jalapeño chex mix at my favorite truck stop in indiana last week and i found it chilling in my travel bag a couple days ago (surprise!) and i’m sure nabisco or whoever has added some special chemical to make it irresistible to a tiny-brained, weak-willed moron such as myself, but dammit that stuff is delicious!!!

softcore
this is truly unimportant and maybe even incredibly stupid, BUT: lately i have come to re-appreciate the humble sweatshirt and have decided to pivot away from normal shirts for the rest of my life because literally what is the point of complicated clothing?! if i get run over by a bus tomorrow it’s not like all the horrified onlookers will stand leering over my corpse going, “light starch? wow, RIP.” no one gives a shit about anything. i just want to be cozy every minute of every day and i want to have sleeves on and listen, where do i ever go that requires a button or a collar? what, i’m gonna take shit to the dry cleaners just to sit in a coffee shop all day?? couldn’t be me. plus if you put earrings on or sturdy pants you can make a sweatshirt look like part of a real outfit or whatever and go to a fancy restaurant without embarrassing your well-dressed friends. and if you wear a t-shirt underneath you (probably) won’t stink it up? which means less washing (theoretically), which means you care more about the environment (also theoretically).

one last stupid ass thing before i wrap this up, about succession: i don’t know who i need to call to make this happen, but if i don’t get to watch gerri fuck roman at least semi-naked in broad daylight i am going to cancel my subscription to hbo (i will not) and maybe even throw a tantrum (in the safety of my own home where no one can see me). WE (and by “we” i mean “i,” samantha irby) DESERVE THIS!!!!!

the next time you hear from me i will have added, at minimum, 2000 words to a book i claimed to have already completed, that i will undoubtedly have to read (gross) and revise at least three more times before it is unleashed upon the world in the spring. jesus be an ativan prescription! i love you very much, thank you for reading this, goodbye already.