By the fall of 2002, even my work, the largest of the pots and pans I’d placed under my life’s leaking ceiling, had become too small to contain my misery.
Netherland, by Joseph O’Neill
It’s probably the weather, but this metaphor is striking a minor chord in me. Also, it took about 15 pages for me to stop and think, “I love this book—why did I wait so long to read it?”
