What you can learn from doing the same thing every day for a year


WASHINGTON—As I walk into my friend Lauren Rapp’s apartment east of Capitol Hill, she waves me through her galley kitchen to the refrigerator. “Dude, check this out,” she says, conspiratorially.

She has a lot of interesting stuff at her place: a fancy triathlon bike, worn-but-still-glossy Taschen art books, a gloriously strong spruce-scented candle that masks the smell of Swisher Sweets cigarillos — but I’ve never once known her to cook. She opens the top door to her nearly empty freezer, and there, front and centre, is a miniature sofa chair, the perfect size for a Barbie doll, made out of ice cream sandwiches.

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