Most nights, I crash around 11 and wake between 3 and 3:30. Eyes pink and itchy. Nose running profusely. As the coffee drips, I dress myself in the same wretched sweats, socks, and boots I wear 5 times a week. In my fog – or is it fugue? – state, I stuff an apple, some trail-mix and a seltzer in a backpack, crate Lucy, and am out the door by 4. In 2007, a Harvard… more

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