I’m staying at an airport hotel, and this morning I wandered down to the lobby to grab coffee just as the sun rose. The sweet hostess at the restaurant told me it cost $3, so I should just make coffee in my room.

I said: "I'm not just coming down for the coffee. I'm coming down to move my body and see the sun rise, and the coffee is just an excuse."

She smiled and she poured me a free cup. Much of life is like this. Much of what we do serves more than one purpose, and I'd bet that a solid half of my cups of coffee aren't actually about the coffee itself. Sometimes, I need a break. Sometimes, I need to move my body. Sometimes, I need to be in the presence of people, if only for a few minutes, even if I don't end up talking to anybody.

Another example: the doorman at a nice hotel isn’t just opening doors. He’s a security guard with sharp eyes and street smarts, greeting you with a “hello” that’s infinitely warmer and more comforting than any automatic sliding door at a Holiday Inn, which is technically more efficient.

I say all this because we live in a world obsessed with efficiency, where we're constantly trying to distill every action down to a single practical utility, but life isn't so reductive.