The endless circumnavigations one makes while searching for a parking spot in the city.
I spent nearly an hour trying to park my car the other night. The minutes, they wore on and on… and with every turn of the steering wheel I felt the fabric of my sanity fray until finally all hope had eroded completely away. Was there ever such a thing? Hope? Certainly not. The world is a barren and dead place. Bereft. A crypt of rubber and steel and glass. Yes, young couples may love. Men and women might indeed walk their dogs and jaunt happily through the streets in their well-tailored, seasonally-appropriate jacket. But I would never know that happiness. Never see my girlfriend again. I was born to die in that car… lost forever in this… place… this horrid metaphorical hellscape of the human condition.
And then, abruptly, without any reason or purpose… I found a spot.
And all was better again.