Saturdays

All summer long I've been longing for some sort of feeling or experience that up until recently I couldn't put my finger on. Isn't that life? Constantly longing for something you don't exactly know what. Completely and utterly miserable feeling I tell you.

Anyways, this desire has been following me since May. An overwhelming feeling hits me every single Saturday that I'm doing nothing rewarding or enjoyable.

Today I realized.

This is my perfect Saturday.

• Up at 6 or 7. Early enough to still feel dew on the ground and perhaps a mist or fog slightly in the air.
• A tall toffee nut frappucino/no whipped cream from Starbucks.
• Perusing this Farmer's Market where I'd purchase a BabyCake, some okra and berries, a carton of free range eggs, a bouquet of fresh flowers and a jar of homemade apple butter.
• I'd drop off my purchases and head to Bardstown where I'd find a cafe with outdoor seating for lunch.
• After lunch I'd indulge in the local antique shops, boutiques and used bookstores. By the end of the afternoon I'd have bags full of precious treasures.
• Shopping would have been exhausting so I'd see the afternoon out with some penny candy and a cherry coke from the Hurst Drug Store Soda Fountain.
• The drive home would be evening, just as the sun begins to set and the air becomes cooler. I'd defy all previous misgivings about driving with windows down and enjoy the air on my cheeks. The radio would blare embarrassing songs I'd never admit to listening to and I'd drive for and hour or two as though gas only cost $1.50 again.

Such a simple dream, such a simple experience and yet it all seems like the farthest thing from actually happening. Which begs the question, if we are all supposed to live like there is no tomorrow why is it always so hard to throw caution to the wind and actually go for it?

I'm still not sure. But I'm fairly certain it has something to do with responsibility.