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A review by rebeccacider
What I Hate: From A to Z by Roz Chast
This book has an odd schadenfreude quality, because while I am fairly neurotic, turns out I am neurotic about totally different things than Roz Chast and it was honestly kind of pleasant to inhabit someone else's anxieties for a while.
(The one exception is the jello, which I remember vividly despite reading this book months ago. OH GOD, THE HORROR.)
(There is actually a word for this aversion, trypophobia, or fear of things with tiny holes. Whatever you do, DON'T GOOGLE IT.)
(Did you google it? I'm sorry, except not really. See "schadenfreude" above.)
(The one exception is the jello, which I remember vividly despite reading this book months ago. OH GOD, THE HORROR.)
(There is actually a word for this aversion, trypophobia, or fear of things with tiny holes. Whatever you do, DON'T GOOGLE IT.)
(Did you google it? I'm sorry, except not really. See "schadenfreude" above.)