I can’t stop selling for the life of me. Really, it’s like I was born to sell. I do it with everyone, everywhere, at all times. I used to be ashamed of it. I used to not even understand what it was I was doing. When I was a little girl, I learned to survive by talking people into selling them on the idea of not hurting me. I had to. So I practiced it every day, from very early on. Then, when I understood I could make money with it, I was told it was an egoistic, capitalistic desire that was shameful, and I shouldn’t be selfish, and I’d never be able to do it, and I must be altruistic and self-sacrificing, and on and on and on, the glorious bullshit of patriarchy teaching me to be subservient and non-ambitious and mediocre and quiet and compliant.