All The Bad Things I Did
About
Life can be pretty hectic... sometimes all we need is a little bit of quiet alone-time to sit and think about all the truly awful things we did from Day One.
ALL THE BAD THINGS I DID, is Dorchak’s third collection of humorous essays drawn from his own life. This compilation takes a look at Dorchak’s love/hate relationship with squirrels, irrational fear of glass, and crappy attitude in the job market – spotlighting the indifference, thoughtlessness, and downright awful behavior that most of us would rather not admit to.
With his typical humor and wit, Dorchak observes the actions that, in hindsight, simply out us all as being Human.
Praise for this book
From squirrels to sand shortages, this essay collection finds comedy in unlikely corners.
Dorchak’s comedic essay collection strings together snapshots of personal history, offbeat observations, and musings on everyday life, touching on everything from animals to vegetables to bad habits, all delivered in a conversational style. The first entry, blending candor with humor and family history, begins with an anecdote about squirrels and spins it into a sprawling, zigzagging piece before moving on to a richly detailed exploration of smoking. The titular essay reads like a frank, sometimes absurd, but still relatable list of everyday mistakes and missteps. It’s less about deep confession and more about calling out the small, imperfect moments that make us human. The essays’ themes often take unexpected, meandering turns, beginning with one simple idea before veering off into seemingly unrelated territory. In “AHHHHH – Freak Out!,” for example, Dorchak starts with his grandmother’s unflappable “I’m fine” mantra and slowly unspools into a cascade of fears: bears, heights, murky water, and—most improbably—the finite supply of sand in the world. One of the funniest essays, “Pure Evil,” dives into healthy cereal from a kid’s perspective and the public humiliation of being a literal kid in a candy store—when your mom’s the ultimate sugar enforcer. The author’s humor thrives in this kind of escalation, where seemingly trivial concerns bloom into elaborate, over-the-top scenarios. It’s a style that invites the reader to ride shotgun in his thought process, detours and all. Dorchak’s voice is warm, self-aware, and often sharply observant. His best pieces turn small personal quirks into reflections on anxiety, relationships, and the odd ways we try to feel safe in an unpredictable world. That said, the book’s pacing and substance can be uneven. Several essays linger on minor subjects without offering fresh insight, and some stretches feel more like extended riffs than fully formed narratives. While this wandering habit may be part of the charm for some, it risks testing the patience of readers who prefer tighter arcs or a clearer sense of thematic destination.
A witty essay collection where observation meets humor—best for those who enjoy the scenic route in storytelling.