This brief essay about two women with intense anxiety falling in love (and joking about the apocalypse) is very sweet:
I’d be in denial if I didn’t acknowledge the joke of our situation, the simultaneous stereotypes of the emotionally volatile artists and the continuously processing lesbians. But we’ve turned these heightened emotional states into engines for our writing and our marriage, a shorthand for the kind of give-and-take that makes relationships work.
We do a lot of sort-of-joking-but-not-really talking about the end times. Blame it on climate change (her anxiety), too many post-apocalyptic movies and video games (mine), and a healthy dose of terror about nuclear annihilation and antibiotic-resistant pathogens (both of ours).