True and sometimes the garbage bag just explodes and there’s coffee grounds, rotten banana peels, spoiled milk and all sorts of nastiness that spills all over your nice clothes, ruining your shoes in the process that you’ve been SO CAREFUL to keep clean.
Much of the cacophony doesn’t fit into nice, neat Chomskyan patterns. It’s more like finding your adult self in 3rd grade recess, just as you are after 1/2 a bottle of Tequila, except all the kids aren’t kids and there’s no playground but the noise levels and strange behaviors are everywhere. You have no control over anything that’s happening around you and you just have to do your best to maintain sense of self in the process.
[actually that’s not true – you have to lose yourself in the process but it’s like being the house that’s under construction – allowing the process… ugh analogies suck here]