I linger in my bed, seeking then savoring the silky coolness of the laundered-a-hundred-times sheets. Thus begins the decadent dilly-dallying of Saturday morning. A toe, a foot, and ankle creep toward the the mattress edge and beyond into thin air, slowly preparing myself to shrug off the covers and rise.
"Are you going to stay in bed? I'll start the coffee if you like."
"No, I'm getting up. Just another minute or two." The choice of how I spend the day equals the lusciousness of remaining horizontal for much longer. And soon the aromatic waves of beans grown on shady Andes slopes reach me. Perhaps it is the promise of "sweet caramel notes and floral overtones" from my favorite "medium bodied brew," but I'm ready now. Grabbing my housecoat, I head to the kitchen.
Picking the Precious Moments coffee mug with my name on it from among the assortment in the cabinet, I pour in cream, then add the steaming brown elixir, watching mocha swirls rise towards me. Inhaling deeply, with a practiced yoga breath, I hold this moment for a heartbeat or two, my hands warmed by the mug, my nostrils cuing my taste buds for the delight which awaits.
Saturday, oh sweet day, I raise my mug in a toast to you.
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