A year and a half ago, I hit Conde Zero, having read all of the copies of The New Yorker and Wired in my home. As usual after that occurrence, I immediately fell behind again. Playing catch up this autumn and winter, I attempted to focus on reading The New Yorker a bit more than Wired.
This week, finally, I caught up with Remnick.
For a period of a few hours before the mail arrived, there were no New Yorker issues to read. It was unbelievable. I was glad! I had managed to catch up again! But then I discovered the coffee-table consequence.