Thank You For Sucking Up My Emotional Vomitus
I feel better now that I’ve purged
Dear, all of you,
First and foremost, thank you.
This story is for my friends, fellow writers, and true followers — not the alleged asswipes who Medium, with the speed of a Marvel superhero, excised from my profile — without letting me know, beforehand. As they did with yours. A swift and irrevocable judgment, that many of us didn’t see coming.
Oh, right. It was in their blog.
Please, don’t turn away. I’m done ranting, for now. You see, I’ve purged myself of evil thoughts and the dual stench of disappointment and abject failure, and I laid it all on you, in the rant that I’ve conveniently linked to, below.
And I dumped on you because I knew that other writers here would be as incensed as I was. But, that was selfish, as I may have unwittingly made people who I consider to be friends feel like horse shit.
For that, I am sorry. Because now, I feel like an asshole. Not quite “full-tilt,” but dangerously close. Especially after hearing from those writers who aren’t doing so well regarding said followers.
Yes. An asshole. Like someone who whines about their douche of a landlord to a homeless person.
Will you forgive me? I sure as hell hope so because I can’t afford to have anyone else bounce. Even though Medium says that followers have no impact on our earnings. To that, though, I respectively ask, “Then why the fuck bother?”
If followers are about as useless as tits on a turtle, why is their number on our profile page?
I must be confused. But, I digress. After I “revisited” my story…several times…I felt the sting of humiliation, for about half a second. But I did indeed feel it.
Because, after receiving the Medium Support email alerting me to their blog post that alerted us to our upcoming screwing, I lost it and displayed the type of knee-jerking that I criticize in others. Maybe it was the “Dear Sherrymcguinn” that tipped me over the edge.
Really? Why didn’t they write “Dear Stooge,” and leave it at that? They can’t even get our names right?
“Medium, it’s Sherry McGuinn, for the record. A first name, as well as a surname. There’s a space in between. It’s the same for all of us here, except for those who use fabricated, one-word pen names like, ‘deltadicksucker.’ Alert your editorial staff. Thank you.”
Today, I’m going to attempt to regain my dignity, or what’s left of it. Perhaps I’ll even be able to squirt out a story that makes others feel good about themselves and life in general, like a certain Roz, that writes here. I’m not going to use her full name as she has more than enough followers and doesn't need my nose up her bum to gain a few more.
“Sorry, Roz. But this is about me. Sherrymcguinn.”
Oh, that was shitty, wasn’t it? Maybe if she lends me a few of her followers, I’ll use her full name next time.
Time for me to go and do some “Saturday stuff.” Laundry. A little shopping. Communing with nature and getting in touch with my feelings. The same things that most of you are doing as I write this. Maybe you’ll read it, maybe you won’t. It’s all good.
But, know this. If you leave me, I will find you.
Love,
Sherry
Sherry McGuinn is a slightly-twisted, longtime Chicago-area writer and award-winning screenwriter. Her work has appeared in The Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun-Times, and numerous other publications. Sherry’s soon-to-be-ex-manager is currently NOT pitching her newest screenplay, a drama with dark, comedic overtones and inspired by a true story.
Thanks for reading, guys. If you enjoyed this, I’d love for you to check out the following, as well as my newsletter, Sherry Raw.
