It’s 5:44 a.m. at the airport I’ve just landed in on the East Coast and I’m wearing what might be the world’s worst stakeout shirt. It’s pretty but also orange. The good news is that I have a two-hour layover. There’s enough time to change. The bad news is that it’s 2:44 a.m. California time, and I’m delirious and about to embark on convincing someone at an RV campsite that I need to tour the grounds to see if my friend’s soon-to-be ex-husband is hosting another woman when he’s supposed to be watching their son. WTF.
After a year and a half of a global pandemic, who’s to say what crosses the threshold of unhinged? Lockdowns, drive-by birthday…