If I had a penny for every time something bad has happened to me and someone has tried to comfort me with the words, “everything happens for a reason”, I’d be rich.
There seems to be an unspoken understanding in society, a consensus that the expected response to this luke-warm platitude is to nod sincerely, as if considering something deep and philosophical, smile and say, “thanks, you’re absolutely right”. Personally, when I’ve just had my third failed job interview in a row, a flat tyre or woken up to find I’ve bitten and broken my own tooth in my sleep, I’m not one to consider good form in my response to such phrases.
“What do you mean?”