David W. Denning

When I travel, my default fragrance is the citrusy smell of disinfectant. I’m the fidgety train passenger who slathers their hands with hand sanitizer. The fussy person on the plane who cleans their tray table with anti-bacterial wipes. Do these habits mean I’m well-prepared, anxiety-prone, or waging an unwinnable war against legions of microorganisms? Maybe all three.