Difficult, difficult, lemon difficult.
there are infinite versions of A First Post, this one is mine
The first time I got on substack was in 2019? I’m not claiming to be an early adopter. I’m really just illustrating how stultifyingly perfectionistic I can be when it comes to making a thing and letting it exist.
It’s the interminable tension between wanting everyone to believe I’m a genius while wanting to take everything I’ve ever made and slide it into a dark lake under the cover of night.
Anyway, this is the first post.
This photo is from my wedding? Or, the big dinner we had at Nargi’s (the old location; I haven’t been to the new one, I hate change). The photo isn’t great but it exists and I generally look like this. But older. So picture the crepey thing going on with my neck getting wattle-ier but basically, this.
Definitely ORATING.
In any case, in this moment I am about four years late on a book. A show that I spent three years developing with [REDACTED COMPANY NAME] is not going. I don’t know what’s happening with the movie with [REDACTED PRODUCER NAME] but I’m just letting you know where you’re finding me and what vibes I am bringing to the function.
I also had plans to make a Whole Thing out of migrating my old podcasts onto here (here are those old podcasts if you have no idea what I’m talking about) so we could have show notes and synopses but I think I’ve accepted that this is not happening as a precursor to This Thing getting to exist.
Whatever. My brain overcomplicates. It’s not really an operating system I would wish upon anyone but if you’ve read my books you’ll know that anxiety and vigilance and Big Feelings are thematic lodestars for me so none of this should come as a surprise.
Anyway, there’s this thing in my household where because my partner and I are both nutcases (+he’s a Virgo) and struggle with saddling all our pursuits with questions of value and self-worth and hunger for acceptance and approval, we encourage each other to let things go by saying, “Job” and giving the other a thumbs-up to punctuate the completion of a task.
Notice, it’s not “Good Job.”
“Good Job” would be patronizing and inauspicious. “Good Job” would indicate that we don’t think that a better job could be done be someone else, or even ourselves at a different time.
“Job” is for when your friend breaks up with a tedious partner for the nth time while all parties (tedious ex included) knows they’ll get back together.
“Job” is for when you manage to leave CVS having spent only $60, half of it on garbagesnacks because the floss, CeraVe and other shit you needed was locked up and you know in your heart that little button is attached to nothing.
“Job” is when you run your life with a manufactured urgency that makes you take half-breaths and feel as though you are being chased by a pack of wild dogs when in fact you have Your Dream Job.
“Job” is doing something at 60 percent effort but with 74 percent consistency.
So, that was it.
“Job.”