I’ll start with the point.
A few days ago, I had a terrible fight with my partner of more than six years. I’m talking, BAD. The cause? We were thirsty.
No, seriously. That’s it. We were on a southwestern hiking trip and had gotten worrisomely dehydrated, thus reduced to a set of middle-aged preschoolers.
Fortunately, we figured out this cause-and-effect before things got further out of hand. But I should have known better from the start. Science foretold this catastrophe. And I knew the signs.
Chaos is fine for some people. Zen people. Freewheelers. People we describe as “kooky” or “quirky,” mostly with fondness, because they’re so unbothered by their bubbles of existential disarray that it’s kind of charming. You have to admire a person who owns their chaos.
You know the type. Maybe you are the type: Everything you do, you want to do really well. But you can’t…
The wildest thing happened this past weekend.
Wait for it…
As in, I attended some. Plural.
It was my first real weekend of Hot Vax Summer, and my first proper going-out in 18 months. And somewhere amid all that rusty social interaction, I realized something. Well, two things. One: I know a lot of Geminis. Second, and the reason we’re all here: that the only kind of ‘networking’ I ever want to do is going to parties where I can be my damn self and enjoy the people around me. I know, what a concept.
I cannot tell you…
In the month since I stopped working full-time to focus on freelance projects and aimless walks, I’ve gotten pretty into trees.
On my first handful of springtime hikes in New York’s Hudson Valley, I lugged around a copy of the National Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Trees. I’d pause every few dozen trees to cross-reference bark ridge patterns and last autumn’s leaf litter, puzzling over the distinction between fissures and furrows, the chroma of browns. Last weekend, I downloaded an app that can identify most trees, plants, and even fungi from a single photograph, which feels a little…
If 2020 was the worst year ever, 2021 is on track to be the weirdest. Not bad, per se — or at least, not as bad as what we’ve all survived to date. More like, a year that’s shaping up to be more than a little bit… off.
As I write this, most U.S. states have freshly expanded Covid-19 vaccine eligibility to all adults over the age of 18. Yet, at the very same time, states across the country are seeing an alarming surge in cases. The same is happening across Europe and in Canada. In Brazil, the pandemic is…
In the wake of January’s Trump-incited mob breach of the U.S. Capitol, versions of the same grim question began to emerge: Would the police have been so haphazard if the rioters had been Black instead of white?
The question was not purely speculative. Last summer, in cities across the nation, protesters took to the streets to denounce the systemic police brutalization of Black people. Many of these protesters were met with physical intimidation and, in some instances, brute force — not by lone vigilantes, but by the same law enforcement officers purportedly trained to “serve and protect” them.
Email is a thief disguised as convenience — and its sneaky energy-sucking threatens to ruin our work lives.
Replying to emails and company message threads never feels like it should count as “real” work. After all, have you ever seen a job posting that lists “quick with tonally appropriate Slack emojis” or “a whiz at inbox zero” among a candidate’s ideal skills? Yet, most of us spend upward of a third of our workdays feeding what the author and Georgetown professor Cal Newport calls “the hyperactive hive mind workflow.” …
I never thought I’d say this, but the impending return to “normal” life is stressing me out.
For some people, the pandemic has freed up time to learn new skills and invest in hobbies. For me, it’s been a year of feeling thwarted: The sense of taking two steps forward and one step back, over and over again. The book proposal I’ve been working on for longer than I care to admit has been “almost done” for months. …
It’s all too much. There’s work stress to contend with, household chores to get done, child wrangling, and relationship tending, and—oh yeah—that whole pandemic situation. You’ve hit the limit: the wall.
For better or worse, the only way out of your present wall-scape is to smash your way through it. It’s time to reclaim your time. And you can do that by getting in control of your schedule.
The other day, someone I follow on Twitter posted an open offer: If anyone in New York City had an elderly relative who needed help signing up for their Covid vaccine online, they’d be happy to lend a hand. I thought of my own grandmothers, who are both 91 and rely on a network of kids and grandkids to navigate the digital labyrinths of modern life. Then I thought of elders who don’t have this kind of support, and the relatives who may not be able to offer it.
It all dredged up a feeling I barely recognized, this online…
Currently: Writer, editor, author at-large | Recently: Senior Books Editor @ Forge