Walking into my room felt like hugging a friend you haven’t seen in years—comfortable, familiar, and not trying too hard. The bed was that perfect middle ground: firm enough to support your back, soft enough to make you forget your bad decisions.
I swear the pillows whispered, “Just five more minutes,” every time my alarm went off. The bathroom was tiny but had an actually decent shower with pressure that could peel a potato—in a good way.
One thing I loved: the plug sockets near the bed. It’s such a small win, but we’ve all stayed at places where you have to contort like a yoga instructor to charge your phone.
