The last time I went out with Nick*, it was clear that things were not right. I don’t mean between us—although yes, there too, if I’m being honest.
I mean in the world.It was Tuesday, March 10, and the only reason I was even free to see him that night was because a gathering I’d planned had been postponed due to fears of the . (At the time, the decision to delay had still felt a touch hysterical.) Earlier that day I’d told my boss that I was no longer totally comfortable taking the subway at rush hour and so would prefer to work from home “for the next little while.” But as a longtime freelancer, I’ve always preferred to work from home.