After three years in Cleveland, I moved back to New York City in mid January, just when the coronavirus was in out-of-town previews. For two months, I reveled in the joy of being back in my beloved Gotham and had a brief flirtation with a hologram known as “job security.” Since the shit really hit the fan after my last paid workday in March, I’ve been basically staring out the window in between meals, phone calls, virtual gatherings on Zoom, naps and dog walks, wondering what the fuck.