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January 11, 2007
The cat lies ruggishly on her side, splayed like a trophy bearskin, done in by the heat of the wood stove. She looks sort of how I feel, in a way. My eyes are melting and running from the heat of reading computer screen text, my brain fat is softening with the effort to render 100 words. This should be easy, just a few lines of description, couple of emotion laden adjectives and the job is done. Well, OK, I already described the cat so here’s the emotion: I am a kettle on the wood stove; stress evaporates, contentment condenses.