...in the bleakest publishing environment ever?
What I wore to work in the late 80s and early 90s.
Help an indecisive Libra figure this out...
I really should have this down by now.
What if I could just remain in this cozy, liminal space forever?
How do you eradicate chronic self-doubt?
...without having any fucking clue what that even means.
Pandemic living had me confused, but it turns out I achieved some big stuff this year.
Must I warm up to my least favorite journalistic staple in order to stay relevant?
An oldie but goodie, slightly updated.
The grim report from week 86 of shelter-in-place.
Haunted by memories of an old East Village friend who recently passed.