Furiously Happy: A Funny Book About Horrible Things

Whenever Hailey tells me kids at school were mean to her I want to go find those kids and tell them that I’m them from the future and that they’ve failed miserably. And then I’d be like, “And look how fat you got.”

I could remind myself that as soon as I had the strength to get up out of bed I would again turn my hand to being furiously happy. Not just to save my life, but to make my life.

Why is it “incapable” and “unable” instead of “uncapable” and “inable?” You can have an inability but you can’t be inable. I’m uncapable of understanding how these decisions were made.

How can we be expected to properly judge ourselves? We know all of our worst secrets. We are biased, and overly critical, and occasionally filled with shame. So you’ll have to just trust me when I say that you are worthy, important, and necessary. And smart.

My Phone Is More Fun to Hang Out with Than Me

It’s about taking those moments when things are fine and making them amazing, because those moments are what make us who we are, and they’re the same moments we take into battle with us when our brains declare war on our very existence.

Everyone has human heads in their closet. Sometimes the heads are secrets, or unsaid confessions, or quiet fears.

If you put a bunch of chameleons on top of a bunch of chameleons on top of a bowl of Skittles what would happen? Is that science? Because if so, I finally get why people want to do science.

When I wake up in the morning I often find messages left to me on my phone. Then I read the messages and I suspect that I’m being stalked by a madwoman. And I am. That madwoman is me. The calls are coming from inside the house. Some of these notes are written while I’m waiting for my sleeping pills to kick in, but most are written at two a.m., when