In one of my many dreams during this period, I was overjoyed because I was about to interview for a job with Clinton at the State Department. As the meeting time approached, I looked frantically for my car keys, but couldn’t find them. After rushing to the State Department in a cab, I was told that the meeting had been moved to her office on Capitol Hill. When I got there, I realized that although I was already half an hour late, I needed urgently to use a restroom—as pregnant women often did. The bathrooms had long lines of women beside them, and, as I waited, my cell phone rang, telling me I
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