Oh, good. I never know if that stuff is just depressing to everyone else. The thing I love about that book is how it's about all the bad shit AND all the marvelous things too.

It's sort of like the intended version of the unintended effect of Patsy Cline: No matter how sad I am when I listen to Patsy, I'm not as sad as Patsy. Plus, singing along is fun. (Except for anyone in earshot.)

(Funny and fun aren't the same thing in this particular scenario.)