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Mood:  I'm weepy and achy in my gut reading Joshua Ferris' The Unnamed.  It's devastating in all the best ways.  It captures life's sweetness and its cruelty with such poignancy that it will slay you.  These kinds of books (Lark & Termite, Let the Great World Spin, The Story of Lucy Gault) are either huge sources of inspiration, or the best argument for retirement, depending on the day.  Look at the number above and you'll see in which of those applies to me at the moment.  Does that count as a sick day, Boss?  Or, two?

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