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September 18, 2012
IF THERE IS a Groundhog Day-like element to my life, itís in making the bed. I flip the blanket, and flip the blanket, and flip the blanket, and itís always a new day, right around late in the morning; the sheet is rumpled so; the pillow exhausted so; there are some nine new e-mails on the phone; I feel just about as depressed and behind as the day before; and I think ahead to the next dayís blanket flipping, and flip the blanket, and flip the blanket, and itís always a new day, right around late in the morning.