Welp, the end of another week is upon us. Is the weekend a punishment or a reward, or neither? What distinguishes our days, if we can’t even go to the goddamn library? (Oh my God I miss the library.) (I don’t want the library to reopen until it can do so in a way that’s safe for library workers; I just miss it.) I have a plan to mark the passage of time by making a new batch of frozen breakfast burritos. This seems fine, but do you remember the time Before when a person could go out to a…
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