Will you remember?

Ten years from now, will you remember this morning?

Will you remember how you woke up and realized we were out of orange juice, and, knowing it's Sarah's favorite in the mornings, you went down to the first-floor deli to buy a new carton? And once down there, surprised yourself by buying milk and cheese and hummus too?

Will you remember that you wore a white shirt with navy pinstripes and ruffles on the front? And the gray pencil skirt that is exactly like the black pencil skirt, each of which you wear to work at least once a week? Will you remember that you think of this as your "uniform," like in high school, which is pretty hilarious considering you never liked your uniform in high school?

Will you remember that it was gray, and rainy, and cold today, and despite remembering your umbrella and trenchcoat you wore highly impractical black cloth flats? Damp, but cute. Will you remember how you stuck a vase from the kitchen into your Urban Outfitters lunch bag as you left the house, and upon exiting the Farragut West Station, bought a bouquet of white carnations from the little flower stand you've been wanting to buy something from for two months? And the whole way to work, you smiled with fond pride over the little bouquet, and pondered how it's impossible to feel  unhappy when carrying flowers (much like cupcakes). They're such pretty little carnations. You spent the first 15 minutes of work this morning cutting their stems and arranging them in the vase, and now they're sitting next to the printer on your desk, hiding those ugly cords that have been bothering your aesthetic sensibilities for four months. Will you remember how you smile every time you look at your merry little carnations? Take that, rainy day. I make my own sunshine.

It's just one day like any other. Living the 20-something life in your own Tess way. Twenty years from now, fifty years from now, will you remember this morning? Will you remember this life? I hope you do, because it's beautiful.