the day off

I'm blaming the dizzying clumsiness and general feeling of lack of grace that dominated this hectic monday-come-tuesday (note - since the show must go on while the office is dark, monday is usually a bit of catch-up...imagine the results of a three-day weekend) on the very odd yoga class I took last night. I decided that my 'floating' (?) holiday should be spent with laundry, brunch, tea (lots), watching fat people-themed reality television with my roommate, and a slow flow evening class where I would stresslessly perfect my locust pose and enter the truncated work week with energy and focus.

FALSE.

for whatever reason, this instructor decided it was in the entire class's best interest to not only talk for the whole hour, but to ramble on about being in your mind no being in your body no in your mind in the present not the past but the future.

confusion, anxiety, and the needless, endless length of warrior one/two combo led to child pose retreat for many. including me. I have never left a yoga class feeling like I needed to go to a yoga class.

I didn't think anything of this until I was awoken at six am by my own expletive screams, jerking my left hand away from my steaming hot radiator, which had been turned on during the course of the brisk fall night. the rest of the day was filled with oatmeal-microwave-explosions, tripping over nothing at all, running into people that are at least one head shorter than me (not at all uncommon) and burning and re-burning my tongue on my spiteful, spiteful vegetable soup at lunchtime.

it may sound silly to blame my off day on a yoga class, but I maintain that if that class had been less "organic" (as he put it -- I say it was rife with inappropriately timed jokes) my day would have been more like slow flow and less like no flow. or stop and go.