I wanted to write about all the shit that comes with being a nut designer, so here I am. And here is my story so far:
I am a squirrel. I designed a new type of nut. Go me. I sent it to nut stores and nut-designer advocates (lots of them). They ignored me or rejected me. Poor me. Then one of them got in touch: "We'd like to sell your nut." Yay me! I floated around in a cloud of self-satisfied delightfulness. My nut got into the stores. I found a nut-designing advocate. I sold a few nuts. Not that many, but a few. Good for me. My nut store went bust. Poor me. I designed another nut. Woohoo me. My nut-designing advocate didn't like it. Goodbye advocate. Poor me. I submitted to (lots) more advocates. They said stuff like "Well..." and "Actually..." and "You know..." and made lots of promising noises (hooray me), but in the end they all said no. Poor me. But then one of them said "Ooh" and "Ah" and "Yes" and I had myself an advocate. Yippee me! The advocate started sending my nut out and getting good responses (big-up me). But in the end they all said no. Poor me. Until months later one of them said YES (ra me), which was great. But they were Russian, so none of my friends or relatives could enjoy these (very country-specific) nuts. Poor me. But the advocate kept claiming to be on the verge of selling it to a million other exciting nut stores (yip-yip me), but nothing ever happened. Poor me. So I designed another nut. Good for me. But I lost my advocate. Poor me. And I realised I wasn't earning any money and I had a small child to look after and there was a global recession and anyway EVERYTHING I DO IS RUBBISH. Poor poor me.
So here I am.
I worry a lot.
Science with added fiction
5 hours ago