“The problem with people,” he said, a vast generalization not targeted to my age group, which may have been why I kept listening, “is that they think there’s a right time for things. They think the world gives a shit about your timing.” Maybe this was why the psychic had bristled him so much: because the idea that the future was predictable was just as ridiculous as the idea that there was a specific chronology you could follow on your way to happiness, that there was a right time for marriage, or children, or buying a minivan. That was pure nonsense to
