2020: The longest year

A year in the life of a mail carrier (the year is 2020)

"It feels like I’ve never stopped playing Russian roulette because I never stopped working."

Filed under:

• The Highlight

Are we doomed? An investigation

At the conclusion of a dystopian year, we look to historians, preppers, and even the heavens in search of answers: What exactly was 2020, and what happens now?

The Lost Year: Making your workplace Covid-19-safe — when you’re an escort

"I haven’t contracted Covid yet. I’ve been lucky, because my bubble is probably huge."

The Lost Year: A new baby who didn’t know your face for days because you were wearing a mask

"I love just looking at his face when he sees there are other people in the world!"

The Lost Year: Chronic pain, an unusual love story, and reassurance via pickle

"There are certain ways — and maybe it’s not cool to say this — in which quarantine has been helpful."

The Lost Year: Falling for your mailman in lockdown (but not getting the ending you wanted)

"I asked him, ‘How’s everything going? How can we help?’ And I accidentally told him that I loved him."

The Lost Year: A new dress, new self-acceptance, and a sudden onset of the soul

"That day, for the first time, I saw myself. And I knew I was trans. Holy shit."

The Lost Year: A sudden crisis, online sex work, and a better understanding of privilege

"Online sex work has amplified the loneliness for some customers. I’m talking to them because they’re paying."

The Lost Year: A dad, his son, and the bittersweet realization of life’s true priorities

"In America, we say everything we do is for our child, but we spend a lot of time working and accumulating money and stuff that we don’t need."

The Lost Year: Non-monogamy, Zoom sex, and the agonizing wait to kiss your partner

"As soon as I started taking non-monogamy seriously, it was like any other coming out."

The Lost Year: A woman, an injured baby pig, and a series of revelations

"It’s easier to believe everything is holy lying under the stars with friends and a pig sleeping in the crook of your arm."