I want to come in first. I'm usually second. At auditions, selling scripts, Bingo. Not the winner. I'm the smiling contestant who leaves with the frying pans and rice-a-roni, not the fat stacks of cash and dream vacation. Nothing wrong with that, but nothing particularly right with it either.
And second place, I've come to feel, blows.
I used to think that second was super close to first. Almost there. Just around the corner from number one. But now, I want to be the winner.
I'm not a super-competitive person. I'm not even a competitive person. I clap for the other team when they do well. But as the days turn into months, turn into years, turn into for-fucking-ever, I want to be in first place. I want to know how that feels.
Weirdly, that's a little hard to admit, but that's the truth, Ruth.
So keep your fingers crossed and your eyes on the prize, America. I'll let you know the minute I get there.
