I’ve written 80 columns in 80 days, and they’ve turned out to be, yes, a chronicle of life trapped in a house for that duration, wrapped up in a cozy cocoon of the internet, social media, Instacart, GrubHub, Postmates, Amazon, Netflix, Kindle books, 2 dogs and a daughter.
The crowd grew throughout the afternoon to numbers that seemed too large to contain violence, so the taut suspense that had grown since the morning continued.
Sad confession: I had planned for my wallet to have multiple pockets but…something went wrong. I don’t really care to talk about it.
I just wanted to breathe, relax, tune-out, re-screw my head on properly, and ideally, I wanted that without sitar ragas boinging in the background.
I don’t know if or when coding will be required of all journalists, but I can see how it would help and possibly protect you in the inevitable next round of layoffs and furloughs, especially with things happening so quickly with technology as it relates to writing.
To prevent one disease from spreading, the lockdowns have also at least forestalled the effects of humans on the planet.
The Kiva Camino cannabis-infused pineapple-habanero gummies taste so good you’re gonna want to just sit in front of the TV eating them like bonbons.
Five hundred dollars, when it comes to visits to the vet or an auto mechanic, is the new $20 bill.
If I was now baking a cinnamon pizza, or cinnamon scones, or an apple pie, then so be it. I was making whatever would come out of the oven.
I’m a little unclear about the exact circumstances. It’s been so long since I was a reporter that I’ve forgotten almost all of the essential Ws.