Going to work in a structured setting outside the home then returning every evening drains you a little. And tricks your mind into thinking what it needs after lending your time out to something else for money is a break. The kind that's available with algorithmed entertainment patronizingly designed just for you so that it conforms to previous choices. Or worse, you shop your way out of those feelings using the chips you earned to double down on the bet like bleary-eyed gambler at the blackjack table. When I first heard about Amazon I thought what a terrible great idea. I vowed never to join, then vowed to cancel after the free trial. Years later I dip my hand into its cookie jar again and again. The serotonin hit of finding anything you can imagine for sale and available within seconds is like an endlessly refilling bag of Doritos. We were not meant for this. Those nights when I can wearily type out a few considered sentences or read a short story instead I've won a small battle against something.