It took her a while to identify the feeling she was feeling—it was so subtle and so anomalous, and, ultimately, so short-lived—as happiness. It crept up on her quietly, not elation but equanimity. She was not inordinately happy—it was not crazy happiness, not full-throated wild happiness—but it was there, a calm she wasn’t used to feeling, a sense of oneness with the world, with her days. She slept deeply and dreamed vividly; she floated through her workdays with serenity, having unearthed new reserves of patience and empathy and the ability to turn a blind eye to people she ordinarily wanted
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