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Change of Plans

I’d just taken a seat in the PT’s waiting room when my phone buzzed: “Unknown Caller,” the screen read, and I sent it to voicemail. The garbled transcript said to please to call the ENT’s office. My guess was there’d been a waitlist snafu, since my August appointment had recently been moved up to the […]

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In the Navy

Today I took my new label maker for a spin and it was an experience beyond anything I could’ve imagined in the early ’90s, when my dweeby hand-cranked red Dymo I.D. was the height of organizational glamour and sophistication. “Make me one!” Crankenstein requested as I clicked through dazzling options for adjusting the font, size

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Exile on Lame Street

If I were in a better mood, I might spend the evening ranting about my deep and total hatred of Hillbilly Elegy — a book whose popularity offended me more than any bestseller in recent memory — and its odious author, J.D. Vance. But tonight I’m still congested, still can’t taste or smell, and to

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The Grass is Greener

Carlos Alcaraz successfully defended his Wimbledon title today, just five weeks after winning Roland-Garros and barely two months after turning 21. Last year’s victory over Novak Djokovic was an almost five-hour endurance test; today’s 6-2, 6-2, 7–6 (4) affair was a drubbing until Alcaraz anxiously squandered triple championship points at 5-4, giving Djokovic the chance

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The Big Chill

Is everyone ready for the premiere of Faye, the Faye Dunaway documentary, on HBO tomorrow? It will also be available on the Max streaming service, which is how I’ll see it if our (temporary) subscription’s still valid. I’m quite excited about it, and I was reminded of Dunaway earlier after an awkward run-in with Tom

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Brother Rat

The week is almost over and it feels as though I’ve done nothing but cough and nod off on the couch. Wimbledon is momentarily too painful to discuss following Donna Vekić’s heartbreaking semifinal loss to Jasmine Paolini, and I can’t craft anything suspenseful or amusing from some recent basement mishaps that served as superfluous reminders

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Headaches

My worst headache today wasn’t the one from Covid — ibuprofen helped with that. It arrived via text, when my mom sent a new photo of my dad’s spider bite, which had gone from steadily improving in appearance to looking worse than ever. Crankenstein, who says she feels “70% better” as of today, saw patients

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