I’m just so sorry I waited this long to pick up a Samantha Irby book.
Her latest, “wow, no thank you” comes on the heels of her NYT bestseller, “We Are Never Meeting in Real Life” and although I’m not sure I would have ever thought of something so open and raw to be soothing, it is. It’s like a cold New York Strip steak on the soul.
Weird, right? Here’s the thing — even introverts like myself crave human interaction. I know this because yesterday when I went to my office for the first time since March, it kind of made me want to cry. Don’t get me wrong — I have grown to really enjoy this work-from-home existence. Waking without an alarm. Walking the dog without the pressure to beat the traffic. Working on dinner prep during lunch. There is a veil of serenity that has dropped over life these days and I wrap myself up in it as much as I can (and then kick off in a hot flash. God I hate perimenopause.)
But still — seeing one of my favorite co-working friends, walking past the cafeteria where we all used to wander around aimlessly trying to decide what to eat, seeing empty vending machines that I once made a game out of trying to empty the entire complex’s selection of Wint-O-Green LifeSavers, St. Patrick’s decorations still up, lights down low … it was harder than I anticipated. This introvert does need a dose of people from time to time.
So to read Irby’s work wasn’t just to laugh out loud. It was to feel connected again. Irby’s writing is easy flowing and it is HUMAN. Especially if you are anxious at heart. If you are awkward. If you’re the type of person that craves the dance club and your betches and at the same revels in t-shirts and slippers and binging TBS.
Irby contemplates a real-life Instagram influencer’s feed. The batshit crazy amount of work required to take care of all of our body parts. Being a stepmom. Living out of a car. The million other things that are probably better than sex (P.S. Samantha my favorite Top Chef contestant is Chef Kevin. And Melissa.) All the reasons you’d call 911 (yes to the awkward conversations that will replay in my brain from now until I die). What it’s like to have written the breakout scene on a popular television show. And maybe one of my favorite things ever, a sweet little passage on being okay with just being okay.
So in all this chaos and constant worrying, to read something so damn funny I had to stop to take a breath, I am grateful grateful grateful. I will gladly hang out in the gross with her. So good to feel so human.