The New Yorker · 17 Oct 2026
My Year of O.C.D.
As I skimmed it, the air became cold on my skin, alerting me to the sweat materializing on my forehead and neck. On the second, more attentive read, my toes and fingers started to clench. On the third go-round, tunnel vision began setting in, which had the perverse effect of making it even easier to
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