Writing group tomorrow night. I love the drive: climbing up to 280 as the sun sets warm on the Peninsula, cruising through the omnipresent fog of Daly City, the loving look I send in the direction of the In 'N' Out as I catch it on the left out of the corner of my eye, and then the approach and glide into San Francisco.
If there's not much traffic, it's only a little over twenty minutes, door-to-door. But it turns out that twenty minutes is just enough time to help ease the transition between making guitars out of Kleenex boxes and rubberbands (don't ask...) and offering up solid feedback on someone's story.
I'm aiming for balance, you see.
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