The wind has been whipping through the gorge, knocking branches down and squelching my plans to go for a long walk today. I could brave the gym, but my workout partner is packing for Disneyland, and going alone just stinks. Without distractions, I am bound to stare at the clock the entire time, suffering a slow death.
Today is a perfect day for yoga.
[I brought along some fine actors, to aid in the reenactment.]
(Pink-haired Barbie was a total diva; she was fired. I'm sure I'll be hearing from her union.)
I pulled out my mat. Put on a DVD and....
(I don't recall smiling.)
whoa, whoa, aaaaagggghhhhh
fell to the ground.
Zack + Dusting with Pledge = Treacherous Yoga Studio
I have a new strategy for tomorrow:
I think stretching my fingers over the remote has got to count for something.