As I drove to my parents' home yesterday - trunk full of disinfectant, hand sanitizer, thermometer, nutritious meals for their freezer - I couldn't stop thinking about how our definition of "acts of love" needs to change during this crisis.

Basically, it's not that people born after 1980 are narcissists, it's that young people are narcissists, and they get over themselves as they get older.

Now I am older than Keats was when he died and I live in a room whose walls somebody else painted this very soothing shade of taupe and I’m still the same age as Lena Dunham but I’m not jealous of her anymore. I am making a living doing a different thing that I love and I feel as lucky as she has probably at some point felt, and I catch myself whenever I start buying into a worldview that mandates I see anyone a little bit like me as my competition. So good luck to her. May she make the space expand.