Our Philadelphia hotel earlier this year had a fabulous reading room. It’s a dark and moody space that called my name every time I passed by.

It seemed like the perfect spot to curl up with a book but I never once saw anyone sitting there. I didn’t sit there either because we had a delightfully full schedule. The time we did spend at the hotel, we chose to spend it in pajamas with air conditioning blasting and our feet kicked up.

Now I wish I had bothered to run a comb through my hair and go downstairs to sit in this dreamy room. I’m not sure why I am still thinking about it but I still dream of it. If I ever go back, maybe I can plan for some quiet time in this relaxing space.