Existentialist Angst
The 10-year anniversary of this blog, coupled with the discovery that someone I went to high school with has become famous for her Tweets is giving me existentialist angst.
Becoming a navel-gazing narcissist before anyone else realized it was cool to become a navel-gazing narcissist is my sole claim to fame. I am not married. I do not have 3 beautiful children. I have not garnered the notice of Hollywood types, and yet somehow I continue to scream into the gaping void of the internet while simultaneously telling myself that it doesn’t matter if anyone else reads it.
It’s not true. It doesn’t matter until someone you went to school with gets famous for doing something you thought no one was really paying attention to. THEN it matters.
I’m going to go polish off a bottle of tequila.
