Let the rain sing you a lullaby. ~Langston Hughes

As a fledgling New Yorker I know that preparing for a rainy workday means setting my alarm clock at least 10 minutes early, getting my dusty wellies from the back of my closet and looking for one of my 50 umbrellas (that always seem to go missing when I know rain is coming). But as a native Long Islander I see rainy days as perfect reading days.

Imagine waking up, the sky is a crisp light grey, you can hear the fat raindrops splashing on the roof, tapping on the windows, swirling off the tires driving by your house; you are cuddled up in your warm bed wrapped in a fluffy down comforter, snuggled with your perfectly placed pillows. It is the ideal morning for a steaming cup of tea and that book you've been putting off because of your busy schedule. Days like these are gifts from the biblio-gods. It is an opportunity to excuse yourself from your hectic life and slow down.

What I love about rain is that it has multiple layers that peel away with each season. Fall is wet and cold, damp autumn leaves crunch under your shoes. Winter is cold, protective icicle-armor forms on tree branches. Spring is wet and warm, re-birth breezes through the tentative leaves. Summer is hot, the humid sky sighs forming puddles to cool us off. Each instance is unique.

Heavy downpour = sexy rain kisses like in The Notebook.

Summer rain = warm day and cool raindrops; flashbacks to running up and down my street with friends when I was younger.

Thunderstorms = cuddling and candles....or hiding under the covers.

Sleet = harsh winds and achy bones

But regardless of the type or style of precipitation, next time it rains (and it isn't a work day, even though we all know how hard it is to get out of bed when it's raining), don't curse the weather gods, curl up in a comfy chair or your warm bed, and let the melodic drip-drops lull you to lose yourself in those pages and relax.

Pull up a chair...

Picking the right place to read is a very important decision.

When I was younger, I had two favorite spots. In the winter, it was my laundry room and in the summer it was my hammock.

The laundry room in my parent's house is a tiny little room under our staircase, that houses our washer/dryer and boiler. In the winter it was the perfect place to crawl into with my pillow and wrap myself up in one of the toasty, and freshly-laundered blankets waiting for me in the dryer. It was the one place where I could tune out whatever commotion was going on upstairs (and with a family as big as mine, commotions were easy to come by). I loved the floating smells of Tide and Bounce dancing in the air, in tune with the boiler's lulling hum. It was my safe haven; my winter retreat.

Summer called for a different atmosphere. A light breeze, wind giggling through the leaves and a lazy lullaby slightly creaking in the background. Attached to two perfectly spaced trees, my hammock swayed me to another world. The smell of grass and suntan lotion always perfuming the air. It was the perfect place to imagine the adventures I was gobbling up with every turn of the page.

Nowadays, the places I choose to read are dependent on where I am.

Commuting on the LIRR into Manhattan gives me a glorious 1hr:15 min there and back to fully immerse into my book of the moment (it's also a really good time to catch up on sleep, but we're not talking about great places to sleep, are we?!)

Any couch or comfy chair where I can put my feet up and potentially take a nap in between chapters is always preferable. In my opinion, the perfect chair has to be one of those overgrown armchairs with a matching ottoman; you can curl up or stretch out and maybe even cuddle with your fellow reading buddy ;)

Oh, and don't forget that the perfect reading place is not complete without the perfect lighting. Living in a house with, shall I say, "Dad's bad lighting", finding a place that is bright and welcoming at the same time is very important when I am looking for a place to settle with my book. The light can't be too harsh because then it kills the mood, but it can't be too dim because then all I hear is my grandmother's voice "You're going to go blind!" And since I'm already pretty blind (a.k.a. contacts and reading glasses) I can't take any chances.

So put away your straight-backed wooden folding chairs and invest in a chair you'll boast about at your next book club meeting.