I often delve deep down into the rabbit hole that is Maria Popova’s The Marginalian, coming up for air only after I’ve realized I’ve made my way from Octavia Butler, to Walt Whitman, to how to be a living poem (🤷🏻‍♀️) to knowing more about Beethoven than I ever knew I wanted to know but now I do. And the most dominating thought I have is: how the fuck does Maria do it? Can she stop time? Does her head ever hit the pillow? Is she an extraterrestrial? Does she live in her slippers?