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...
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