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It’s old news by now, but yes, it’s true: And Just Like That … has not been renewed for a season four, and next week’s finale will be Carrie Bradshaw’s final Jimmy Choo–assisted stroll through New York City. For now? Maybe? Who knows. Please, dear God. I have admittedly been laughing to myself anytime I read something trying to spin this cancellation into some sort of amicably selected natural end for the series because holy hell if they knew season three was it and decided to spend almost the entire season trapping Carrie and us in the mess that was Aidan Shaw, if that was how they wanted Carrie to go out, that is baffling. And infuriating. Mostly infuriating. Why keep Aidan in Virginia? Or why not just let a single Carrie date with abandon? What was the point of any of it? Although, since “What was the point of any of it?” serves as the perfect tagline for this series as a whole, maybe we just let it lie. In a few weeks’ time, it’ll all be but a distant fever dream where every once in a while we’ll think, did we really have to watch Carrie pee her bed while Miranda got fingered in the nearby kitchen? Remember when Carrie Bradshaw, a famed sex writer, refused to talk about vaginal dryness and it tanked an entire podcast-production company? What in the fuck was Che Pasa? And then we will go back to our normal lives mostly unscathed. I take real comfort in that.

Let’s say these final two episodes were put together with the knowledge that this would be AJLT’s final bow — there is certainly a lot of meta talk going on about how to end Carrie’s novel — I’m still walking away baffled since this first episode has an extreme lack of what we in the biz call “plot.” Nothing really happens? This show has had a lot of episodes in which most scenes feel like separate vignettes that don’t amount to much, but “Forgot About the Boy” is really pushing it. It’s clearly being used to set up emotional arcs for next week’s finale, but come on, give us something to work with here. As a parting gift!

Okay, one great thing happens: Adam eats Seema out in the shower and afterward invites her to Thanksgiving with his sister, and then tells her he loves her, and Seema says it back. It’s all quite lovely, and after some of the bullshit they’ve put Seema through over three seasons, I’m glad she’s going out getting exactly what she wanted: the good oral sex, yes, but also a real love story.

Elsewhere, we are not so fortunate. Carrie, for one, is brooding whilst pre-ordering copious amounts of Thanksgiving pie and wandering the streets of her old neighborhood. She bumps into Lisette, who is still apparently a fixture on this show, in front of her old apartment. There’s a weird conversation about Lisette’s recently ended seven-month relationship in which Carrie responds that she just ended her 22-year relationship — an insane way to frame her and Aidan if you think about it for even four seconds. I have a serious question: Does Carrie forget she was married to Big? Someone should tell her.

Lisette invites Carrie to a pre-Thanksgiving party, which she accepts but then spends days dreading. She worries that once she steps into that apartment again she’ll instantly regret leaving and it will serve only to remind her that all the plans she had when she moved have been, well, canceled. Adding to her poor mood, her agent has read her novel and although she calls it “fan-fucking-tastic” (everyone is delusional on this show, it is the only explanation) she has some notes on the ending. Mainly: This cannot be the ending. Right now, the novel ends with the woman alone in her garden. Surprisingly, her note is not that this is so boring it makes her want to set both the novel and her own hair on fire, but rather that this is a romantic tragedy and Carrie Bradshaw cannot write a romantic tragedy. This agent seems very bad at her job: Romantic tragedies sell, baby! And also, if there is one thing we can all agree on it’s that this novel has been tragic since page one.

Carrie takes umbrage with the implication that a woman ending up alone is a tragedy and I couldn’t help but wonder if this is some sort of dig at the audience. When she rants to Charlotte and Miranda that people “at the publishing house” just want the woman to end up with a man because it’ll make people feel good, it reads like an accusation, as if our issues with this show are that it hasn’t been a feel good romp. That we don’t appreciate the honesty. If so, what a complete misread of the criticism out there. And anyway, in what world have people been clamoring for Carrie’s happy ending to be with a man? If anything, the majority of us have been begging for Carrie to stay free and single since the moment Big fell off that Peloton. If anything, we’ve wanted more of the friendships on this show highlighted. It’s what we’ve always wanted from this exercise.

With her agent’s requested epilogue looming over her head, Carrie heads over to Lisette’s party. The moment she steps into that apartment the overwhelming feeling she has is not that of regret, but a realization that this isn’t her home anymore. Part of that is the mind-boggling renovation Lisette did, splitting Carrie’s apartment into two so that she could afford the rent. (Couldn’t they have just made it a converted two-bedroom so both Lisette and her friend could share the kitchen? And does one of them not have a bathroom? I have so many questions.) Part of it is physically seeing that this isn’t her place anymore — her aesthetic is gone, it looks impossibly small; She has outgrown this place in more ways than one. “I feel like Alice in Wonderland,” she tells Lisette, who mostly just wants to grill Carrie on whether or not she’s scared of getting murdered in her sleep since she lives alone. The answer is … uh, now she is. “I guess whoever said you can’t go home again was right,” Carrie declares after the lackluster but informative evening. The magic that the place once held is gone.

But the experience inspires Carrie to go home and write that epilogue. In it, the woman receives an invitation to a party where she knows a handsome widower will be in attendance and decides that yes, she will go to that party. I guess this is some version of hopefulness? You’d think Carrie would find a way to hopefulness without the need of a man for her woman, you know, like, giving her an incredible set of friends to pass the time with. None of them will have names or personalities or do anything that could be mistaken for plot, but still it would be a nice way for Carrie to satisfy both herself and her agent. It feels like too much to ask for, I know.

Speaking of friends, it’s Miranda who will be hosting Thanksgiving dinner at her place next week. Well, if Brady doesn’t burn the place to the ground. There is a nonzero chance of that happening, which honestly would be an inspired way to close this series out. The reason for a possible Brady meltdown? Well, it seems Miranda took it upon herself to extend a Thanksgiving dinner invitation to Mia (Brady’s gassy baby mama) after learning she had nowhere to go for the holiday. It sounds like a kind thing to do, except Miranda decided not to talk to Brady about it before or after or at all, really. It is possibly the most boneheaded decision Miranda has ever made and she dated a standup comedian for a year. Everyone she tells informs her as much, and yet she continues to wave away the warnings of impending disaster by insisting that there’s no way Mia will accept, so why get Brady riled up for no reason?

Surprising absolutely no one, Brady comes home in a rage after getting a text from Mia saying that yes, she would like to come to dinner. He unleashes on Miranda — I guess he gets it from his father? — screaming at her, demanding her to fix this, trying to get Joy to join his side, and then storming off to his room. Miranda stays calm throughout, which is sort of a miracle, but the interesting thing here is Joy’s reaction. She seems almost stunned into silence at what she’s witnessing. Joy made it known that she was never really a kid person before, and it’s hard to imagine moments like this are helping the cause. But hey, what’s Thanksgiving dinner without at least one breakup?

This and That

• It seems the final storyline bestowed on Charlotte is a rehashing of how she feels about Rock identifying as nonbinary. It was clumsily handled the first time around, but sure, let’s go for round two. This comes up again once Charlotte sees how “grown-up and pretty” Rock is in their Thoroughly Modern Millie costume and she is unsure how to express a feeling of, let’s call it, wistfulness.

• Giuseppe proposes to Anthony in a Bergdorf dressing room and he accepts! He’s happy for like five minutes and then he admits to Carrie that he might regret saying yes. Ever since Giuseppe moved in, Anthony’s been cooking and cleaning for him, leading him to wonder if Anthony is simply a replacement for his mother. Okay, wait, will this be the big breakup next week, or do these two have a shot?

• We get yet another random Victor Garber scene in this episode. (His daughter is on the stage crew for Rock’s play.) He engages in some awkward banter with Carrie. Are they going to try and pair these two off in the finale? Will he be the handsome widower to Carrie’s woman?

• Herbert remains incredibly angry and depressed after his election loss and there is nothing Lisa can do or say to snap him out of it. I’m hoping their healing somehow ties into her crush on her editor because boy did they drop that storyline fast.

• The burning question on everyone’s mind as we close out this series: Will! Lisa! Finish! Her! Doc?!

 It’s strange to watch Carrie write her own epilogue in real time.