Someone "up there" was having a good laugh at my expense.

Several days ago, I witnessed the most incredible sunset on my way home. Seriously. Incredible.

During the winter, the sun is always setting as I leave work. Most of the time it's pretty. Sometimes it's breathtaking. On that particular night it was heartbreaking. Did I mention I'm a complete sucker for a pink sky? Well, this one? Was not only pink, but purple and blue and orange and an amazing rainbow of clouds awash with color.

I think I nearly collided with the car in front of me no less than eight times while I was staring at the sky instead of at the road.

Watching the road while driving actually helps. That's just a little tip from me to you.

So, there I was, staring at the sky and punching myself in the face for being an idiot not having my camera. What would I have done if I'd had it? I'm not sure. Pulled over? (On the side of the 55 during rush hour? I'm not suicidal.) Tried to shoot and drive at the same time? (See above comment about watching the road.) (On a side note, would that be considered a drive-by shooting?)

I arrived home a failure. The brilliant colors had, of course, faded to gray in the five minutes it took me to get there.

I had hope, a lot of hope, that I might witness another spectacular sky (what are the chances, right?), so I grabbed my camera on my way out the next morning.

At four-thirty that afternoon, I wandered outside. It was cloudy (we were expecting rain that night), but the sun wasn't completely shut out. I caught a glimpse of color behind the hotel and, in a hopeful rush, hurried up to the nineteenth floor.

Had the sun been able to escape those clouds and shine some light and color upon them, I would have had the best seat in the house. Clearly.

But, it was not meant to be.

Stupid clouds.

Well, a tiny sliver of ocean, but still... ocean.