Drowning in matzah crumbs, the heart, mind, and digestive system yearn for a fresh, dense, hot bagel. Pandemic Pesachs too come to an end, even as pandemics themselves taunt and tease us with their endless evil iterations, known as variants. I used to think a variant was when my new black shoes didn’t match my new black dress. That was frustration at worst. These variants carry more evil designs on me, you, and the world. We now know too much about these things and never again will I go to the doctor and be relieved when she says, “It’s nothing. Just a virus.” Ha. What does she know?