As I've mentioned before, I fancy myself a connoisseur of the Year Memoir. This woman is not. She is neurotic and unlikeable (neurotic I can happily live with -- and do, hahaha! -- but the combination is lethal), and as far as I can tell this book is an account of a calendar year of her being neurotic and unlikeable, as well as grouchy to her husband and helicoptery to her son. I mean, I get that the Arc of Personal Growth is a bit contrived in many of these books, but a little personal growth would have been welcome here. Or at least some conceit for the book other than this: "I was unhappy with my life. Here is a year in my life. I think I'm still unhappy. And I hate my husband's van."