I Don’t Understand Anything Anymore

The pandemic may have started to recede, but my brain is still on lockdown

Photo by Ani Kolleshi on Unsplash

Years ago, I was at a trade fair where I got to test out a high-tech treadmill that did everything: it told you your heart rate, your BMI and — and I think I’m remembering this correctly — categorized you as either a Rachel, a Phoebe or a Monica. The man at the booth told me to step on and set it to my normal walking pace. I…