When I ask people what writing problems they need solved, the overwhelming answer is
1) Not Enough Time, followed by
2) Can't Focus
3) Can't Stop Scrolling
4) WTF Is Wrong With Me, and most recently
5) I Can't Stop Refreshing the Johns Hopkins Covid Tracker
And if that isn't bad enough, along comes your screentime notification to chastise you for spending 58 more minutes a day looking at your phone when god knows you could have been baking bread or learning Farsi or, well, something more #stayhome alluring.
Or maybe your attention is swallowed up entirely by the endless tide of racist violence and you've fallen headlong into reading the news far past the point that you're capable of processing what's happening.
And if all of that hasn't reduced you to a dry-eyed bundle of savaged nerves, you may stumble across that friend or acquaintance, the one who's just inked a sweet development deal with A24, the one whose book is somehow getting a Twitter shoutout from Eileen Myles in the midst of a global crisis, the one who is #soblessed to have a poem coming out in Poetry this month. And yes, that person is nice and deserves their joy, etc. etc. etc., they are totally not the problem, well maybe a little tiny tiny bit you suspect that they're getting a boost because they're so damned attractive, but really they aren't the problem except that their writing is out there, they're doing the thing, and for one hot, gut-melting moment, you can't ignore the fact that you want what they have.