Rebecca A. Foster

So in the latest episode of The Office , Jim offers Kelly an hour long tv session, or an hour long nap. She wisely chooses the nap. And then Jim semi-tucks her in!  Okay, he handed her a blanket and turned out the light, but so close. Jim tucking you in for a nap: what could be better? Only this: spooning. The whole fun of napping with another person is, of course, the spooning. I have a hard time relaxing, but spooning in a man's arms is liquid valium to me. You can never have too much of this.  Currently I sleep alone, so I must be content with my fluffy pillows (5 on my bed), electric blanket (under the sheets, and I turn it on an hour before sleep) and down comforter (I like weight on me when I sleep). These things are not as good as spooning!  Or being tucked in by Jim!  But, for the time being, they must do.  Picture link

2:00 PM, kitten tummy, dark and rainy day, curled up in a soft blanket, afternoon nap. The best.

Is anything better than a man's sweet, too-big-for-you, spicy-scent-of-him, worn-in old t-shirt to curl up in? Best ever.

As friends know, I hate having to wear a shirt in public. It just feels so much better when your skin is exposed to the warm sun and fresh air. (And you could in theory do this a lot in S. Texas, where winter lasts approximately 48 hours.) So I especially love Saturday and Sunday mornings when I can take a shower, slide back under the covers and doze again while drying off. And when I do get up, spend all morning in my skivvies. I don't answer the phone. I eat a leisurely breakfast. I read my new Entertainment Weekly or Voltaire or something. (Okay, Entertainment Weekly .) But the best part is definitely being able to lose the outer shell for a while (and be awake for it). The only time I get to experience this in public is wearing a bathing suit. It is acceptable to wear a bikini in public, but not bra and panties. Weird. Which is why my favorite relaxation-vacation is the Yucatan Peninsula, where the only thing I have to do when I wake up is put on a bikini and wear it all day l...

Things I sometimes say: "My bed is calling my name." "The magnets in my bed won't let me out." "No, sorry, I'm already in bed and quite frankly you're not enough right now to get me out of it." (Okay that last one I texted, not said, but it did make me realize: a man who can't get me OUT of bed will likely never get in me IN it.) Anyway, the bed: queen size pillow top, on which I've added two of those 2-inch Tempure-Pedic-like memory foam mattresses. I have to climb on since the top of the bed is a good 3 1/2 feet off the ground. 500 thread count sheets and a big goose down comforter. Four pillows of various size and firmness, two small throw blankets, brass head and foot board. See why it's tough to leave? This is also why I've often said if I ever decide to get married, if I can't have my own apartment, I'd still like my own bed. Although I'd probably be okay with shared naps, and sleepovers on special occasions.* ...

Lunch is my biggest and most important meal of the day, but breakfast runs a close second. Dinner? Eh, whatever. Overrated. I never, ever skip lunch or breakfast, but dinner is often just a pain in my heiny. "What, I have to choose what to eat again??" I sleep through dinner all the time. It's hard for me to keep my eyes open from around 5-7, my sleepiest time of the day. And if I have to choose between sleeping and eating, I'll choose sleeping every time. But I digress. One of my favorite breakfasts is two corn tortillas with melted cheese, onions, black beans and salsa. Delicious and healthy to boot, and it takes about five seconds, perfect for those bleary eyed mornings when I can't keep a thought in my head for more than five seconds. Just take a couple of corn tortillas (for an extra health kick, use the whole kernel ones you can get at Whole Foods or The Good Earth) and sprinkle about 1/4 to 1/2 an ounce of pre-shredded cheese down the center. Then...

For some reason, I suddenly feel like taking a really looong, warm, cozy nap. Not sure why. (Special thanks to Lauren T. for sending me this pic. I love Lauren T.!) (P.S. John and I are obvs. meant to be in love because, no lie, I own that same leopard print rug.)