Likely Normal

We’ve officially entered an era where trust is the rarest currency in existence. Remember when answering the phone used to be exciting? Now, if an unknown number flashes on your screen, you treat it like a live grenade—letting it go to voicemail while mentally preparing to block it, report it as spam, and possibly change all your passwords just in case. Emails have become psychological minefields where every “Dear Customer” feels like the opening line of a con artist’s script, and that PDF attachment might as well be labeled “Digital Trojan Horse.” Even websites we’ve used for years now get the side-eye—why does this weather app need access to my contacts again?

The paranoia has seeped into every interaction. When a coworker sends a Teams message asking “Hey, quick question—what’s your birthdate?” your fight-or-flight response kicks in. Is this really Janet from Accounting, or has Janet been compromised by hackers who now want to socially engineer their way into the company server through your childhood pet’s name? We’ve reached peak skepticism where even multi-factor authentication feels insufficient—maybe we need blood samples and a notarized affidavit just to log into our own email accounts.

The irony is delicious: in our hyper-connected world, we’re more disconnected than ever from basic trust. We’ll happily tell Instagram’s algorithm our deepest desires through targeted ads, but when the bank calls to verify suspicious activity, we’re suddenly Jason Bourne conducting counter-surveillance from our couch. Our smart devices have become potential double agents—that voice assistant isn’t just playing music, it’s definitely judging our life choices and selling the data to shadowy third parties. Even emoji usage is suspect now—since when did the smiling cat face become a phishing tactic?

At this point, the only entities we semi-trust are our pets (who lack the opposable thumbs necessary for identity theft) and the local pizza place that still takes cash. Everyone and everything else exists on a spectrum from “probably safe” to “absolute digital menace.” We’ve built the most advanced technological ecosystem in human history, only to live in constant fear that it’s all working against us. The modern mantra? Verify everything, trust nothing, and for God’s sake don’t click that link—even if it promises free Amazon gift cards.

Welcome to 2024, where the only thing spreading faster than misinformation is our collective side-eye at every notification that dares to ping our devices. We’re not paranoid—we’re just survivors in a digital wilderness where every interaction could be the one that finally empties our bank accounts. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go authenticate my authentication app. Again.