I expected this to be a much lighter read than it turned out to be. It’s engaging and well-written, but at times I found it difficult to read because, while Eleanor and I had vastly different childhoods, much of her daily life reminded me uncomfortably of mine before my autism diagnosis and the therapy that has helped me to cope with my anxiety. I didn’t find many of the situations in the book to be funny, because I’ve been the person excluded at work, struggling to understand why people act the way they do, going long stretches of time without talking to anyone, forming obsessive parasocial attachments, etc. For these reasons, I felt much more empathy for Eleanor than some other readers, and was invested in her story’s outcome even if I cringed my way to the final pages. I know what I hope happens when the book ends, but/and I wouldn’t mind a sequel.