It’s so easy to take things for granted. Especially where you live. I constantly tell people how I can’t wait to one day move back to NYC so I can go to the theater and museums and jog around Central Park after hitting up a poetry reading or something super fabulous and cultured. You know how often I did those things in the 12 years I lived full-time in Manhattan? I could count on one hand.

Well, the same thing has happened to me since moving to South Florida. I have a pool in my backyard but I have never once been for a dip. And while the beach is less than 2 miles away, I have only packed up my bag and spent a day in the sun, reading a book, about 10 times since moving here.

So yesterday, Michael and I decided to finally put our errand list aside (Home Depot can wait, right?) and act like vacationers. After Colony yoga and breakfast at Christina’s, we bought the NY Times, grabbed a few towels and headed to Delray Beach beach. It was shockingly crowded – do these people come here every weekend? Wow. I felt like I was finally in some secret that I had been keeping from myself. We only stayed for an hour or so (just long enough to go from pasty white to a more tolerable shade) but it felt really nice to just sit back, relax and do nothing. I mean, what’s the point of living in a beach town where it’s 75 and sunny in January if you don’t go to the beach? I might as well be in freezing cold NYC, holed up in my 300 square foot apartment, talking about all of the fascinating things I plan to do once the weather gets better…