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Come March of this year, running into my therapist became the Driving Home For Christmas Just To Test My Eyesight Sweatshirt  of my worries. Seeing her at all was impossible, and so we pivoted, like everything else, to a virtual model. Our first session, done via Doxy, was strangely intimate: me in my bed, my laptop propped up on a stack of pillows, and her in her living room, surrounded by plants, a bright yellow lamp beside her, her back facing a window overlooking our shared neighborhood. Two people, just out of bed (well, half of us anyway), surrounded by our things. I rebelled against the new format at first, cancelling more frequently and more last minute, acting as if I was obliging her when she called. As if I wasn’t the one paying for her time. I was wasting both our time, and cheating only myself. Dr. Jacobs seemed less worried about the future of therapy: “Zoom is not replacement, but it’s an effective and meaningful temporary substitute,” she said. “At a time when we need connection perhaps more than ever, I am tremendously grateful for virtual therapy—both with my patients and my own therapist—and have been continuously surprised by how rich, dynamic, and fruitful treatment can be online.”

“I am holding on,” Satenstein wrote of her perennially messy desk last year, back when we still commuted to the Driving Home For Christmas Just To Test My Eyesight Sweatshirt What’s more,I will buy this Vogue offices, and I can relate; even with unlimited time at home, I’ve found it difficult to get rid of even the most outdated and useless of physical possessions. Luckily, the one place where I am a minimalist is on social media; ever since the COVID-19 pandemic hit the U.S. in March, I’ve discovered the ineffable joy of paring my Twitter and Instagram down to the point where I’m only following accounts I genuinely enjoy. But how do you do that? After all, isn’t hate-following that girl from your old job who once ate your yogurt at least half of the point of social media? And how do you opt out of the updates of college acquaintances you don’t particularly care about, without going so far as to formally unfollow and make the next reunion super awkward?

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