After so many months of isolation, working the polls for seventeen hours reminded me of something important: New Yorkers are beautiful and insane.

Through the evening, the possibility of a landslide and repudiation stretched into a close race, and now it’s a nail-biter in several states. There’s no excuse for this, given all the needless death and pain in this nation. But now there’s nothing to do except to keep the faith while we count the votes.

Each night in 2020, I wrote a short post for a series called Notes From the End of a World because I wanted to etch these days into my memory. Before the world changed completely.
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September 30, 2020

Training

"You'll be working at least seventeen hours on Election Day," he said. "So bring a sandwich."
November 5, 2020

Goo

Patchy sleep and fever dreams of narrow margins and outstanding ballots. But it’s not much different from waking life right now.
October 25, 2020

Safe

A friend sent me an article about a helmet you can buy that creates its own microclimate of filtered, customized air.
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