I've grown old and only known the love of an exwife, a few paramours, an independently wealthy heiress, a pure virgin fraulein, a sad-eye'd gypsy girl, two demimondes, a handful of fashion models (for local brands no less!), and a regrettable soupçon goût with a young catamite in college. Nearly thirty years old and I've neither married into extravagant wealth nor raised a brood of eight ragamuffin young children in honorable poverty through the sweat of my labour at the local mines.My books, while generally well received by critics, have not earned me a breakout reputation as a literary tastemaker. Nor have they catapulted me into high society. At best they occasionally get me invited to bohemian artists parties in NYC (and lets be honest, who wants to go to those?). When I ran away to join the French Foreign Legion I could not even complete a single push up. They told me to come back in a month and try again. it was humiliating.Barclays and JP Morgan both refuse to hire me as a financial trader, and my efforts to secure a post at an embassy abroad have been utterly unfruitful. None of my business ventures have been wildly successful or earned me a wunderkind party mansion in the hills of Palo Alto. I don't even have a studio apartment in Paris or Milan yet. Let's face it, I'm a failure, a fraud, a phony. My life is over before it even began..Can anybody recommend a book to help me cope with this fact?
>>24969531How to lose friends and reduce influence.
