Sometimes, I wander into the kitchen, hungry or pursued by hungry children, with a clear idea of how to satisfy that hunger. More often, I need to poke around in cupboards and the fridge before I can figure it out. Then there’s what happened the other day: a plan that I’d been hatching in the back of my mind — ruminating on it while I answered email, went for a run, edited two essays and went about the rest of my morning — took a detour when I opened the fridge.
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