Well then. I woke up early in an unfamiliar bed of my own, scrolled through approximately 3,098 Black Friday emails, and bought myself a cheap room in a fancy hotel. After the holidays are officially behind us, I plan on whisking myself away for a weekend to write, dine on elaborate room service, and soak this body of mine in a giant tub. What do you call a babymoon that you take alone? Why does the word “babymoon” send chills down my spine? These are both questions I’m too exhausted to answer at the moment. I have several bowls of cold stuffing to attend to.