The laundry list of this day extends out the door. The Monday anxiety is already screeching its high-pitched aria, the myriad things that could go wrong a metallic tang on my tongue. My bruja energies–invariably Carrie-style when I’m on high alert–have broken two glasses, popped one lightbulb, shorted out a pair of headphones. But I’ll take each step, one in front of the other, in the cutest shoes I can muster until I’ve done everything I can today. (G-d knows the universe has sent plenty of good wind on my back.) Given the options–busy living, busy dying–I’m, like, super in favor of the former.