Due to the nature of my job, I can usually expect at least one brief out of town trip per month. Also due to the nature of my job, these trips are not to exotic or touristy destinations so my overnight accomodations generally involve being in a chain hotel in a town of 10,000 people or less.
(Last night: Country Inn and Suites, Bemidji,Minnesota)
So, although I miss my little family while I am gone and I’m not exactly whooping it up in a swank location, I can’t deny that there are some pleasures to be found in the solo hotel experience.
First, there is the temperature. I am part polar bear and I LOVE a nice cold room to sleep in. At home, we keep the AC on 72 in our bedroom at night. As soon as I got into my room, I turned the thermostat down to a nice brisk 66 degrees. My dear husband’s teeth would be chattering but I slept like a BOSS.
Second, there is eating in bed. At home, we don’t have a TV in our bedroom and, even if we did, I would not likely eat dinner there. But in the hotel, I am happy to curl up under the covers and eat my burrito bowl in bed while watching Bravo. I’m not sure what is better: not having to share my guacamole with anyone or knowing that if I spill I can just move over to the other queen sized bed and sleep there.
Third, the blissful privacy. Nobody asks to sit on your lap when you are peeing at the hotel. Living the dream here, people. Living. The. Dream.
The downside of hotel time is that it makes me remember how much fun it was to stay in hotels with my husband, before we had the little monkeys. Hotel sexy times + sleeping in + traveling? Sigh, those were some good times. At least we only have 15 years to go before we can do it again.
Well, crap, now I’ve depressed myself.
I should probably get back under the covers and self-medicate with a crappy reality show while eating candy in sheets that I don’t have to watch.
Ahh, that is the stuff.