I'm unbalanced.
Keep your comments to yourselves.
This realization dawned on me last evening, during yoga.
We were introduced to the tree pose.
Like so many other things in life, marriage, child rearing, writing an essay, it's a LOT harder than it looks.
The weight on one foot part I can do.
It's the lifting of the leg and standing up part that is challenging.
Especially since I like to do yoga with my eyes closed.
Apparently, looking at a fixed spot helps.
I had an inkling that balance poses would be trying when I tried one the other evening.
Balancing on one knee with the other leg stretched to the side.
I was fine on the left side.
I toppled like a tower of Jenga on the right.
My yoga instructor said that the poses that cause the most difficulty are the ones we need the most.
Meaning I will be spending a lot of time in the next week learning to stand on one foot.
If you hear crashing in my office, it's just me falling over.
And I was so pleased to go to yoga yesterday.
Everything was hunky dorey for most of the day.
I managed another lunch time constitutional, without even a coat or jacket because it was so nice out.
At least in my mind.
Really, the cold just makes me walk faster.
I ran into a student and he asked if he could accompany me.
"No." I replied.
He was quite taken aback, as most people would just assume an affirmative answer to such an inviting invitation.
However, those lunch time airings are the only time I am able to walk at my own pace and listen to dance music on my ipod.
Stephen asked just a few minutes ago if I wanted him to join me for my dance music infused stroll.
Again, a resounding "No."
30 minutes a day isn't too much to ask, in my humble opinion.
And even if it is, I'm taking it.
Back to why I needed yoga.
I can get so off track.
I was home for about an hour before I had to go to yoga.
And that was all the time she needed.
Meredyth.
Pay days can be a time of joy.
For some.
Not Meredyth.
Ergo, no me.
First thing I do on Mer's paydays is go into her account. . . .
. . . .yes, I have access to her account. Her apartment lease is in my name, affecting my credit, so you're damn right I'm going in there when the rent is due.
Of course she has just barely enough to cover her share of her rent, and not enough to cover her share of our Telus bill.
Meaning that payment will have to wait another two weeks.
And last evening she called me and asked for ten dollars.
Gobsmacked.
Simply gobsmacked I was.
She hadn't been paid for even 24 hours and she was already on the hunt for additional funds.
And this is the child who thinks she doesn't need a second job??????
Give me strength, give me strength.
I'm thinking of declaring her as a dependent on this year's income tax.
There is joy to be found, though.
The temperature today is 7 C and tomorrow it will be 9 C.
That's LAUNDRY HANGING WEATHER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Haul out the clothes pins honey because I am gonna be on the back deck, ipod on, singing Glee's version of Misery at the top of my lungs and hanging our granny panties and porno panties on the clothes line to dry in the sun and fresh air.
Don't like it?
Wear dirty clothes.
Walk around naked.
I don't care.
IT'S CLOTHESLINE TIME
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Title Lyric: Welcome Home by Radical Face
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