Water droplets suspended in the air congregate on the surface of a newly towel-dried body. Taking a shower in a humid environment without using the bathroom fan is asking for sticky clothes or bedsheets, whichever you might be slipping into after the clean. Getting into bed fully clothed, like the main character of my favorite book, is another option. It’s not a fair comparison, though, since he never showered.

It surprises me that earth hasn’t yet been destroyed by a singular, human-caused event. Given the world’s unfathomably large population, I expected by now at least one basement laboratory experimenter would have inadvertently combined certain elements in such a way as to spell our immediate demise. That we’re all still here underscores just how important a factor earth’s volume and mass is in the equation governing planet longevity.

The limited range that is characteristic of all the isolated pockets of destruction in our past can also be found in aspects of modern living, albeit not as so concretely a measure of physical distance. Despite this age of connectivity, for the most part we’re only as affected by happenings in other parts of the world as we want to be. I can even zoom in and say that if there were a crisis unfurling itself a couple houses down the street I wouldn’t necessarily be aware of it.

Humans leave small footprints in history. Our spheres of influence are never so large that an observer standing on one would mistake it as flat.