Every woman I know is running a household, holding down a full-time job, working out career paths for her children in the age of technofeudalism, listening to an audiobook of the 18th century journal of a plantation-owner’s wife, planning a family reunion, donating money to amputees in Palestine, taking supplements to protect against osteoporosis, putting money into a Junior ISA for university (technical college?) fees, reading posts about the roll-back of women’s voting access in America, checking ingredients for allergens, planning costumes for the Easter picnic, buying birthday presents, researching vasectomies, working on progressive overload in the gym, having nightmares about husbands who drug and rape their wives, looking into growing vegetables for the apocalypse, redecorating the living room, doing online therapy, power-washing the garden furniture, budgeting to get her chipped tooth fixed, combating gender roles at PTA meetings, rewriting AI slop from her boss, getting quotes for the roof, driving her mother-in-law to the doctor, verb, verb, verb, verb.

Every man I know is keeping up with his fantasy football league, wondering if he should shave his head now or stay delusional, and browsing for a new Nintendo Switch.