For a while now, I've been trying to articulate exactly why the pandemic felt so comfortable for me and why I felt so wrong-footed and distressed when everyone returned to their normal lives. And then last week, I was talking to a friend and the explanation just slipped out, like my brain had spent the last two years piecing the truth together and finding just the right words and was finally ready to present it, to me and the world, as a fait accompli.

"During the pandemic," I told him, "everyone was preoccupied with people, with spending time with them. Not doing things. Not going places. Not seeing stuff. Just people. I finally felt like I fit in. Like we were paying attention to and caring about the same thing, for once."

And this is mostly true. My outward focus is almost always centered on people, and I'm good at cherishing them and relishing the time I spend with them. ( But I think it's the other part of that explanation that offers the most insight into why I was so upset when everything went back to normal. )