Today and lots of Saturdays

I woke up this morning with a familiar feeling of contentment. When I was a teenager, aside from the typical tug of war with my parents over my growing need for freedom, I was happy. Waking up on a Saturday morning was invigorating. The day brimmed with potential. On crisp winter mornings I would don my Guess jeans, leather boots, and cute sweater and head to the shops to buy more fashion accessories. The first drag off my cigarette as I took off down the road was my first step toward the freedom I craved, and the nicotine hit differently in that moment than it did all the next first drags throughout the day. I don’t smoke anymore, and Giorgio perfume is only a conduit to my memories rather than a part of my current beauty routine, which is limited to washing my face, brushing my teeth, and putting a comb through my hair. The need for freedom no longer exists because as an adult, I have it. The money not so much. But the potential for a great day met me this morning like it did all those Saturdays long ago. The feeling of having no responsibilities with a blank slate ahead of me brought on the nostalgia and made way for the Christmas spirit to finally hit. I’m going to make some cider, decorate my tree, and wrap presents for my grandson. I think I’ll put a few tunes on the record player and make new happy memories to wake up to.