I am a huge fan of First World Problems. I'll be the first person to scroll through their Twitter and laugh out loud to myself, thinking "yes. I DO THAT. In ALL of life." And honestly, guys? I do it in blogging, too. A LOT. I get all uppity about the most ridiculous things. Thus, Book Blogger Woes was born. Every so often, I'll be sharing a different blogger pain pertaining to all of the sulking... but in a comical way.
(Please tell me I'm not the only one who feels these things. You just have to. I can't be the only one.)
So it's the new year. Which means new bookish events. Which means BEA in June. (Or insert name of book convention that you really want to attend. Let's be honest, though: it's BEA.) You've never gone to BEA in all your many months as a blogger and this needs to be the year. Until life and bank account LOL at you and taunt you singsongily, "eh, maybe next time, sucka." (Damnit, life and bank. DAMNIT.) And as the time of said conference rapidly approaches, the tweets and posts about it commence. And ALL YOUR FRIENDS are going.
So you say you're happy, of course. But inside, it's a little like this.
(This may or may not be me, for the last 3 years. FAIL.)