Is it wrong to go halfway around the world for a plane ride and a hotel? I don’t mean just any plane ride or any hotel. I mean a blissful, 16-hour flight of pure comfort and sanctioned laziness and a hotel of such supreme indulgence that it’s hard to verbalize. But I’ll try.
On the plane, I had big plans for productivity. With two deadlines looming, I would use this cocooned time to polish them off. What a smart idea! And yet I didn’t even open my laptop. I didn’t watch a movie. I read half a magazine. Instead, I was fully committed to napping and sometimes sleeping. When I landed in Hong Kong, I felt as if I’d visited a rest clinic named Cathay Pacific.
