OK. Daniel Smith is funny. His book Monkey Mind, A Memoir of Anxiety has me laughing out loud, chuckling to myself, and nodding my head in recognition of all the fears and absurdities that are modern life.
In Mr. Smith's case, his Monkey is more of a terrifying King Kong, whereas, thankfully, my Monkey is tiny and tame enough to sit in a teacup.
Mr. Smith is not sure when his anxiety began. Was it when he was three and almost drowned or was it when he was 16 and lost his virginity when he was seduced by a lesbian? Odd, huh? I think either event would qualify.
I am only about 65 pages into the book. It reads like something by A.J. Jacobs (The Know-It-All): funny, honest, and faces head on the author's foibles. I remind myself though, that underneath the humor and crazy situations, there is the reality of his painful struggles with his over-the-top anxiety.