When a book starts by telling you that the worst thing you can do when you’re feeling self-satisfied, depressed, or anxious is to go for a walk with a dying friend… you know you’re reading Anne Lamott.

And when even the STORY of a walk with a dying friend has the power to drag you out of your own self-satisfied, but depressed and anxious existential crisis-of-the-moment…you know you’re glad you’re reading Anne Lamott.

I’ll keep on being glad till I’m finished reading the book, I’m sure.