:: In 24 hours, the truth was before us, a truth that had probably been there all along. Sometimes things just die.
:: Today, when this fear of death hit me, I realized that I’ve been carrying these thoughts around in the back of my mind for so long that I can’t remember when they started. Perhaps two years of pandemic, of living under a shroud of death, has created this pall.
:: The best jobs give their workers agency, and those workers tend to be happy They get to be creative, and come up with neat ideas, and execute those ideas. Whereas jobs where workers do not have agency tend to have workers who burn out.
:: We don’t get many opportunities to seize pure joy. And this was the purest.
:: I spend a lot of time mentoring young or new writers and freelancers, and they all ask me a version of the same question: How did you get here? My path is long. My feelings are strong. And so I decided to write this story.
Today, I am painfully, horribly, depressed.