I have never been one to watch the news. This isn’t because I hate it or that I’m depressed by it, although those would both be accurate assumptions. It’s because I don’t need to. Every night, it is my certain destiny to receive a call from my mother, who dictates a new list of Things I Should Know. The list, arriving with the same reliability as the morning sun and post-breakup weight gain, is one that my mother hopes will ignite paranoia – the kind that will keep me securely located inside my house.
Mom: “Have you ever heard of that Craigslist? I don’t even know what it is, but I guess it’s something to do with the internet.”
Me: “Yes, of course I have. So, how was your day?”