Recently, I traveled to San Francisco for work to attend a (fantastic) writing workshop. And I was reminded of something: I love to travel by myself. I kept my hotel room, which overlooked the bay, ridiculously tidy just because I could. When I needed to be somewhere I could get ready leisurely but arrive in plenty of time. At home I'm so accustomed to the long list of tasks that must be negotiated and completed before we leave. To suddenly only worry about myself felt laughably simple. I also find being in an unfamiliar place slightly disorienting in a pleasing... Read more →