I recently watched and thoroughly enjoyed Rachel Bloom’s new standup show Death, Let Me Do My Special and naturally went looking for interviews with her about it. This one on Rolling Stone is good and ends on the dissonance of Crazy Ex-Girlfriend being critically acclaimed while also the lowest-rated show on its network.

Is that dissonance difficult? Especially for projects that you’re extremely proud of?
My therapist has a term for it: status dysmorphia. On one hand, you’re like, “This show’s a big deal.” Our live shows are selling out. I have a Golden Globe. Have an Emmy. The movie offers should just be coming in. Oh, they’re not? But when I listen to [old songs], I’m like, “I can’t believe The CW let us do this.” I can’t believe a network that had Riverdale and superhero shows let us do a song called “Man Nap,” just about men taking a nap. It’s so silly.

I’m already thinking of my next show after this. I want to go on tour with a brand new song-stand-up show. I want to do more music videos on YouTube and TikTok. I would love to get some money to make those music videos, but if nothing else, I’ll just fucking do it myself. It all goes back to making your own shit

Does it feel cyclical for you to get your start in showbiz on YouTube and now be thinking about a return to social media?
It’s always going to be me. Sometimes on Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, even though we were a TV show, it felt like we were backstage hand-making tinfoil hats for the school play. A couple months ago, I did this musical Reefer Madness in L.A. For a couple of days, I played the role of Jesus. Kristen Bell was a producer and I saw her literally carrying rugs around backstage, mailing out the rehearsal schedules. And I was like, “She’s making the tinfoil hats and she’s Kristen fucking Bell.” At the end of the day, it always comes back to, if you want to make something happen, you gotta get the tinfoil.