This morning, I got in line at my daily coffee stop, roughly fifteen people ahead of me in the queue. About standard. My attention was in my book as I heard the woman behind me sigh, “This is going to take forever,” gesturing to move out of line and leave. She was a tourist—I knew it much before catching a glimpse of her California license as she paid.

“It won’t,” I said, and went back to reading. She got back in line.

Three minutes later, we were both out the door with our drinks.

How I could ever, even for a split second, entertain the idea of leaving this place—sometimes, I just have to laugh at myself. And then go back to reading.