I have come to the conclusion that Saturday mornings are best begun by rising with the sun and setting out to the farmer's market at 6:30 am while the choice produce is still there and the cute guy at the corn stand is feeling flirty. Even on only a few hours of sleep, this weekly ritual kindles a spark in my spirit and lights a fire under my feet, and by the time I shove my 17 pounds of veggies in the fridge (careful not to abut it to the resident dog's diet of raw meat and chicken livers in yogurt containers and giant cellophane tubes), I'm itching for a good run.
Feeling elated for no reason at all (which is the best reason to be in such a state) and with perfectly cool early morning weather, I smiled the entire way around Como Lake. I smiled at almost every person I passed, even though it came out more like a grimace during the last half mile and my face was a curious shade of purple resembling the heirloom tomatoes I bought earlier. And you know what? People smiled back. Which made me smile more. Then people started to avert their eyes because I looked somewhat manic, especially as I struggled resist the urge to throw my arms out to the side and spin in circles for the sheer joy of it.
Today is wonderful. Today is beautiful. Today is full of joy for no reason whatsoever. Or it could be that my eggplant French toast is looking like it will succeed against all odds, but let's go with the former; it sounds more inspirational.