Around 7 or 8, I lived in the school library. I wasn’t picky; any book was fair game. One day I was skimming the Guinness Book of World Records. After recovering from the picture of the man with the world’s longest fingernails (a frankly horrifying sight), I came across a little blurb: the time and date of the world record for driving in reverse. As it happened, it was the exact date and time of my birth. I thought it was interesting and tucked it away in the part of your brain that will forget your address but cling relentlessly to these sorts of “useless facts”. Driving in reverse sums up my life perfectly; I get where I need to go but never in the usual way.
Driving in Reverse 