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I Gave Myself a Month to Make One New Friend. How Hard Could That Be?
Americans have become terrible at forming and keeping friendships. But there must be somebody out there who wants to grab a burrito with me.
But the magnitude of my problem didn’t become overwhelming until a gorgeous spring evening when I texted the group chat after one member reported having “a shitstorm of a day.” Did anyone want to grab a bite and talk it out? I will not debase myself by telling you how long it took me to write that, but I will share that an early draft contained the regrettable phrase “I love to keep it low-key.” I spent a great deal of time trying to decide if I should include my political views. What I really wanted was something that, for some reason, despite its near-universal popularity, we’ve constructed society to make nearly impossible: hanging out casually when the mood strikes, with a bunch of people who know us deeply and love us anyway.
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