It’s 57 degrees on a Sunday in San Francisco. I’m sitting next to the Divisadero Farmer’s Market where I got my 11:30am pick of navel oranges, organic strawberries, and a delicately packed bag of spinach. I stood in a nearly out-the-door line for a $3 coffee when I complain about my new $3+ commute one-way to the Bay Area’s Brooklyn: Oakland. I’m sitting surrounded by hipsters who have ordered a thick slab Einkorn toast topped with house-made chocolate-hazelnut spread. I won’t tell them that I recreated this experience at home this morning – it just took me 4 hours in the kitchen last night waiting for the different rounds of rising. My bread being pretty soft and fluffy (a-thank you) got stuck in the toaster producing not one thick slab of toast this morning but about 5 pieces. For the win…

The couple next to me gently asks “are you connected to wi-fi?” and I mean this when I say I first typed this up using…wait for it…textedit. So no internet but I like it that way because I can stay moderately focu…another cute dog! The woman of the couple disappears into an oh-so-trendy boutique shop and comes back out with a lightly used-looking deck of new-vintage cards that probably cost $45.

Woman: “I was thinking of putting these on the desk in the showcase room.”
Man: “Why does it look used?”
Woman: “I didn’t want it to look like I bought a new set of cards. I actually wanted it to look more used.”

First-world-problems-of-people-who-live-in-places-with-showrooms.

It’s a gorgeous day and I’m taking a break from chores domestic and obligatory to enjoy sitting in a parklet smack-dab in the middle of the city. Happy Sunday to you all (and an extra special Happy Birthday to the most wonderful woman I know, my mom).