It has been a discombobulating couple of months, to say the least. (I’m sure none of you need me to clarify what I’m referring to – but, if you do, I’m honored that you receive this newsletter in your Wi-Fi-impaired private island compound.) Set against a heartbreaking news cycle, writing about life’s mundanities, something that has always come naturally to me, has felt meaningless and even unethical, as though my problems have no space in a world where inhumane atrocities can change one’s life overnight. Meanwhile, said quotidian tribulations have been feeling all-consuming ever since my daughter started preschool and proceeded to bring home not one, not two, but
Reflections from a Germ-Ridden Sabbatical
Reflections from a Germ-Ridden Sabbatical
Reflections from a Germ-Ridden Sabbatical
It has been a discombobulating couple of months, to say the least. (I’m sure none of you need me to clarify what I’m referring to – but, if you do, I’m honored that you receive this newsletter in your Wi-Fi-impaired private island compound.) Set against a heartbreaking news cycle, writing about life’s mundanities, something that has always come naturally to me, has felt meaningless and even unethical, as though my problems have no space in a world where inhumane atrocities can change one’s life overnight. Meanwhile, said quotidian tribulations have been feeling all-consuming ever since my daughter started preschool and proceeded to bring home not one, not two, but