There's just something nice about a hotel room.
Technically it's just a poorly equipped, overpriced apartment, but somehow having that little room set aside for you is an incredible treat. You relish the experience, tossing down your bags with great flourish and stretching out on a bed just big enough to be considered a double. You inventory the room: chairs, table, tv, coffee pot, tiny fridge (exquisite!).
And then you turn on the TV. My mother never understood this part when I went on vacation as a kid, and asked why we traveled so far if we were just going to watch television we could see at home. She never understood that you have to "settle into" a vacation. You need that moment to claim your new space, kick the tires and open her up a little. Only once you're fully at home can you enjoy a single thing outside that window, with its super-heavy blackout curtains.
Oh look, the number for the nearest pizza chain. Gonna give them a call later, aren't you? Yes, pizza delivered directly to your new little domain. What royalty you are.