Bookworm Struggles to Avoid Airport Complaint Temptations; Lashes Out On Reading Material Instead

What better time to read about family dysfunction and severe depression than over the holidays?  And who better to lend it than arguably the cheeriest person I know, Blog Mocker Erin? 

In Prozac Nation, author Elizabeth Wurtzel says “I felt sad” for 362 pages.  There are a lot of ways to describe that sentiment apparently.  I can’t relate to this book at all since I have never been depressed and usually reserve my crying for memoirs, the funeral scene in Love Actually and the results of my frequent bouts of clumsiness.

Arguably the most interesting part of this autobiography was Wurtzels’ reflections on the depression culture, as defined by the 6 million users of Prozac.  Versus, say, the seemingly endless descriptions of her college apartment.  Get a window.

I thought this book was interesting, but not for everyone.  Particularly not for the person who lent me this book and hasn’t read it yet.  Erin, you will not like this book.  I hope this 4 paragraph review and lengthy photo caption save you from reading this book, which for the record was in complete tatters even before I borrowed it.

Only 2.5 hours left at Gate 35A.  At least there are windows.

The most depressing copy of the most depressing book on depression.  Photo taken at Depression Headquarters – Reagan National Airport.  (Just kidding O’Hare, you’ll always be #1.)