By THE NEW YORKER for SEPTEMBER 27th , 2021 , THE NEW YORKER MAGAZINE
“It’s meatless Monday. You don’t have to hunt, but I must gather.” “Can you believe I made this dress from an old bedsheet?” “The wind in your hair, the scent of nature all around—this is what data entry was meant to be.” “Don’t let anyone see how much we enjoy knitting.” “Thanks, I knew I could count on you to turn my problem into something way worse that happened to you.” “I’m going for that look where a lot of things partially obscure a lot of other things.” “Let’s not bother it while it’s eating.” “Nothing exciting ever happens in the suburbs.”
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