jealousy and writing

I have started disliking people who I have never met for the most ridiculous reasons lately. I just started reading a book review in the New York Times and thought I might like the book. Until I saw the author’s picture. She looked so nice. Why would I dislike someone for looking nice? And then I read the review. The book of short stories sounds great. I think, “I will order it.” Some of the stories take place in Montana and are about lawyers. And then I become insanely jealous. Here is this other woman from Montana who just had a book published and then reviewed in the New York Times and I am sitting in my cube at my government job.

This is crazy. Facebook strangely affects me in a similar manner: all these people, always happy. Are they all really happy? I have one friend who consistently is unhappy. I make fun of her too. But really the book review and the facebook posts and all of it only show part of how a person is really feeling.

What does it mean to be happy? I am happy. I like my life.

I am seeking drama, maybe. Who knows.

On the bike ride home the other day I realized there is only one way to get out of this job: I have to go through with writing a book. Once the book is written, and sold, I can quit my job and call myself an author.

Stop complaining about that other author, and write something yourself.