A long time ago, before I became the sort of wildly famous person who gets interviewed, I used to interview myself in this blog. I miss those simple times. Now, it's true that I love the groupies and the paparazzi. The latter allow me to indulge my passion for never leaving the house; the former allow me to indulge my passion for that most sacred expression of love between two or more people.

But while the advantages of being an interviewee are undeniable, I don't want to go and get a big head about it. So today, in an attempt to return to my roots, keep it real, and stay humble, an interview of me by me:

Q. So how's the book going, Senor ISoldABookAndNowImRevisingSoSlowly?

A. Hey, it's hard, okay? It's hard because it's not the only thing I have to do, and it's hard to make writing a priority when I'd rather, for instance, watch a movie or do that thing where I bunch my hair together in my hand and sigh while staring at a blank word processing document:

Q. You're looking thin. Also you don't look like you're sighing so much as you look like you're about to puke.

A. I blame both on the subpar webcam.

Q. Likely story, Green. So would you say that it's writers' block?

A. I don't believe in writers' block. Writers' block is just a kind of not trying. Do you ever hear roofers complain about roofers' block? Writers invented writers' block because it allows us to sound tortured and important without actually having to write anything that might reflect our torture and/or importance. I'm just not trying hard enough. Also, I've been sort of sad in a way that isn't really conducive to work.

Q. Get over it.

A. Yeah. I will. Thanks for the empathetic encouragement, though.

Q. In other news, you have been a Chicago Cubs fan for many years, and you even have a baseball signed by Harry Caray reading, "Happy Sixteenth, John! Holy Cow!" How are you feeling right now?

A. Very nervous but very excited. It's like if you had a very long conversation with a girl about whether or not you and she should kiss, like a 26 year-long conversation, and your nervousness and excitement about the kiss kept building and building until you were overwhelmed with the mysterium tremendum, and then finally she said, "Okay we've talked about it and talked about it; let's just do it," and she leaned in and oh my god the happy shock of her so-soft mouth, her breath sweet and warm against your face, and GO CUBS GO CUBS GO CUBS!