I should have gone to the gym today, I know that. It’s 11:34 at night and I still feel guilty that I didn’t. Instead, I did one of the most indulgent things I could ever do. And while I feel incredibly guilty, I secretly (minus the uncomfortable disgusting feeling of eating a COW known as Ray’s Hell Burger then not exercising) really enjoyed it.

Since the moment I woke up on Monday to the overcast morning and pitter patter of constant rain (you know, the background noise that lulls you back to sleep) I wanted to stay in bed and read. Yet, I had to be an adult. So I got up and went to work. But today I rebelled, I skipped my afternoon gym work-out and went straight home. I came home, got in my pajamas, crawled into bed and pulled my puffy duvet up to my chin and, while listening to the rain, lost myself in a book. A good book.

Hours later the only thing pulling me out of bed was shear hunger, more specifically the craving for what I had been reading about in Eat, Pray, Love– spaghetti. I haven’t had spaghetti in who knows how long. If I do have it, it’s with steamed vegetables and a homemade tomato sauce. Today, it was just melted butter and Parmesan cheese (I still used wheat pasta at least.)

I don’t think I can get any more indulgent than that. Perk #1 of being master of my own time.