Recently, I took a brief, self-imposed retreat to work on some involved, important and frankly, neglected, projects. I left a tad bit late, which put me right in the worst of the commute-hour, end-of-week traffic, which is particularly bad in the direction I needed to drive. It turned what should have been a two-hour drive into a three-hour odyssey. But I noticed how, right at the two-hour mark, my route took me onto one of the most scenic of California's coastal highways. So I spent the last hour (the extra hour that had been tacked onto my trip unnecessarily) watching the sky turn from bright blue to golden, auburn-ey red-oranges and purples as I saw the sun set over the Pacific Ocean. When I checked in, the concierge asked me how my drive was, and I told him, "Longer than expected, but I'm glad that it was because it gave me the chance to see the sunset that last hour driving down Highway 1." He sort of looked at me strangely and said, "Wow, I've never hea...
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