Of course I want to run away from the beast. It’s not a pretty animal. And it’s certainly not a member of a species I ever had thoughts of engaging, or would have wanted to engage had I known about its existence. But, the bummer--if it is a bummer, because bummer may just be the word I’m applying...one girl’s bummer may be another girl’s dream come true--the bummer is that it’s mine, and I’ve got to figure out how to wrestle it.
Or, to completely change metaphors midstream--What if you spent 20 years playing a really cool game of Parcheesi, and they suddenly yank the gameboard out from under the pieces, slip in a Monopoly board instead, and insist you go on playing as if nothing weird had happened? (So far my best guess is you learn to play Monopoly, even if you never really liked it.)
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