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It feels absurd and a little silly to mark the end of a bad year, as if we’re getting ready to walk out of a lousy movie or head home early from a boring party.

Not that we’re going to the movies, or to parties. I just refuse to let this pandemic interfere with my metaphors.

I understand the shorthand. We’ve all been through the same misery, even as its repercussions vary widely.

I’m completely onboard, too. This is not going to be a calendar year I’ll be eager to file away in my nostalgia drawer, buffed into something resembling a regular year. It was awful and deserves to be r...