Not Another Piece About How the Pandemic Has Distorted Our Perception of Time
It has been 283 days since I watched Emmanuel Macron announce that we were at war with a virus. Clutching a bottle of tepid beer and clenching my jaw, I heard the man in charge of the French army say the words " Nous sommes en guerre " six times. With each " sommes ", the president's subtle lisp intensified. Each " guerre " pressed further home the seriousness of his hyperbole. 283 days is a long time. As Shon Faye recently pointed out , the first babies conceived during the pandemic have now been forced, against their tiny wills, into a world of anti-maskers, zoom fatigue, and daily death counts. Since March, microscopic gametes have found the time to mature into full human babies, yet I feel like I have accomplished nothing. Where did my year go? How is it already December? I ask these questions out loud, to no one in particular, as I wait for the next online meeting. I don't know where my year went which is odd because time doesn't exactl