Yes, Mindy Kaling is the genial Hollywood celebrity who posted twelve selfies from a single Oscar party, but that smile took work. In this hilariously honest essay, Mindy reflects on the social anxiety that she traces back to the slices of white cheese her parents served at her ninth birthday party. Little has changed in thirty years--least of all the fear of being judged forever. It’s probably best to just back away.

Like Kelly Kapoor on The Office, Mindy is engaged with her Indian heritage to the extent that it is fun and convenient. So apart from a tolerance for spicy foods and an appreciation for Ravi Shankar, Mindy isn’t all that Hindu. Her daughter’s Jewish godfather--TV and film’s B.J. Novak--prompts her to reconsider her religious beliefs and ask herself: How Indian do I want my daughter to be?

In lieu of a perfect, hypothetical future husband, Mindy Kaling is thinking a lot about being single. Pros? She can marathon any Christine Baranski show she wants. Cons? Dealing with married couples and their condescension at cocktail parties. But until a gorgeous, morally flawless, preferably tall TV dad materializes in three dimensions, Mindy can cope with waiting it out (from the driver’s seat).

In this meditation on celebrity, power, and a simple thank-you, Mindy Kaling takes the next charmed step in her path from Conan intern to mogul: picking up the entire tab for a famous A-lister. It’s an investment, right? He’ll be blown away by her class. They’ll be best friends forever. Forty thankless seconds later, who wouldn’t spiral into self-doubt, second-guessing, over-rationalizing, and anxious obsession?

After a friend real-talks Mindy into hiring a baby nurse, she finds the help she needs--and so much more--in this soulful essay by the acclaimed writer, actress, producer, and director. Becoming a new mother after losing her own, Mindy Kaling needs help--like someone to answer the questions What is a baby, and why don’t they have kneecaps? Enter Rose. The in-demand, dedicated baby nurse alleviates Mindy’s fears, from the minor to the profound.