Wasted day?

Days like today leave me feeling somewhat torn. It is gorgeous outside - the sun is shining, the sky is the perfect shade of blue, there is a slight breeze - not too much, but just enough to keep the temperature perfect. The birds are out and chirping like mad - undoubtedly confused at the presence of the sun this morning, after two solid weeks of November-like weather. I feel compelled to go out and see what the fuss is all about, but then I want to stay inside and curl up like a cat in the sun that is currently streaming in my windows and read my book. Then, when the sun starts to set, work on my paper - as I really haven't devoted much time or effort to its conception. At least not what I should be giving it. Why does the presence of glorious weather make me feel as if I should go outside? I think it's the knowledge that it's fleeting this time of the year. No guarantees for tomorrow, the day after, the rest of the week. Like as not, I'll stay in and enjoy the temporary feeling of hermit-dom. But I'll feel like somehow I've wasted a perfect day from a weather perspective. Is a day really wasted if one ends up coming out of it feeling like you can charge back into the fray and fight your way to the end?