Schrodinger’s Pandemic: The Anxiety of Knowing We May Never Know
By Saturday morning, on August 1, I almost burned my eggs when I realized I was zoning in and out within an hour of waking despite getting otherwise perfect rest.
By Saturday morning, on August 1, I almost burned my eggs when I realized I was zoning in and out within an hour of waking despite getting otherwise perfect rest.
It’s only a matter of time before someone coughs on a one-carriage-short, standing-room-only Expo train during morning rush hour, dooming us all.