Sensory Saturdays

It’s Saturday morning. I’ve been up since six, just in time to see marbled skies

turn blue. And with

caffeine settling in as I sit cross-legged in front of my desk, half

t y p i n g , half

watching Fairly Legal (best.show.ever), yet again,

Eating spoonfuls of Chobani as I make mental shopping lists. Piles of beautiful, organic jewelry. Two gold pendants around the decolletage. Erdem print dresses, crossbody bags, a red coat, Zara trousers. A la the beautiful Kate Reed / Sara Shahi. Perfect work wardrobe in a nutshell.

I need to start my jewelry collection, I remember.

I remember when I volunteered at my county courthouse. I remember sitting in a murder trial. Then observing a mediation, and later an arbitration, and

wanting to be an  a r b i t r a t o r .

Because I believe in justice. And I believe in compromise.

She’s so beautiful! Witty. Impulsive. I think mid-bite. To be her! (Her male love interests are dreamy, too…). As I reach the

last

s   p   o   o   n   f   u   l

of yogurt,

I remember I have to slip into my go-to Nike tank and yoga pants. Or I’ll be late for ZUMBA.

Fashionably late? So tacky.

(I prefer to be early.)

.   .   .

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