I had a lot of plans for this year, and they have all unraveled. I've never owned a car, but I picture those ads where the wife walks out into a Christmas morning snowstorm in her bathrobe to find a car festooned with a giant bow and is overjoyed, then contracts pneumonia and dies. But the bow scene is the part I'm thinking of--this year was supposed to be full of surprises. Now I feel like I'm taking the bow off, and underneath there is a rusty Matchbox car parked outside a diorama of my life as it is right now, churning stomach, weepy eye and all.
It's not the worst thing. I do like dioramas. But I'm tired of this sensation: Surprise! Nothing is going to change.