Last night (technically early this morning, since I was growing roots in the Walmart checkout line when the calendar ticked over from Saturday to Sunday) I said to Tyler:
"Lately I feel like a gerbil stuck in those exercise wheels. I'm running so fast every day but I'm not making any progress. Do you feel like that?"
His response: "Actually I feel like that scene from Star Wars when they're in the trash compactor."
Now I feel irritated that I can't even come up with a life metaphor that isn't trite and cliche.
Beware. I'm scouring my meager repertoire of pop culture, searching for a metaphor that will blow his compacted trash out of the park.