As I write this, I am “stuck” in a hotel in Boston.

Oh, whoa is me. NOT!

Our flight from New Orleans landed late, so the plan had always been to stay one night in Boston so A-Man could have a reasonable commute. I had plans in the city today but they were cancelled and since Winter finally decided to show up, it is not fit for man nor beast outside. The next two commutes promise to be ugly as well, so now it will be two nights in Boston.

I could have gone many places in the city, but nothing appeals to me more than lazing about a hotel room. I could have gone home. but the weather made me uneasy and at home there are to-do lists and the things that have to be to-done.

Here? Here, someone makes my bed for me. There is tea available all day long and an abundance of peace and quiet is mine for the taking.

Sigh. Does it get any better than this?

No one asks me for anything. No on needs to be driven anywhere There are things I can do here. they are choices, not requirements. Did I mention there was a pool? I love to swim. I will go back to reality soon enough. but for now. I relish this time, luxuriate in the nothingness.

I am using the time to fill my well. Next week, I will be a single parent for 7 days. I know that many women do it all the time and many women do it for longer stretches. but I’m not built that way. I’ve always known it. I love my children and I can swing single parenting for short stretches, but I’m a much better parent when I co-parent. Things will be fine, but life will go much better now that I’ve had a week of non-parenting and I get to take these last few days in relative solitude.

My husband thinks I’m nuts. He doesn’t understand the appeal at all. To him, a hotel room is claustrophobic. To me, it is containment, cozy. I am free to write and read, surf and chat without interruption. The woman at the front desk gets it, a female colleague of his, herself a single mother, understands. He just shakes his head and wonders what’s to like about being “stuck” in a hotel room.