Well, maybe. Mainly, I just really wanted to write that because I keep saying I to myself whenever I see that squirrel cage blog, and what with it being crazy crazy friday and all, when ashanga yogis practice only primary series, or as I refer to it, just another day where I stop at garba pindasana and wish that my teacher would see fit to graduate me to finishing all of primary, damnit.
Was that really all one sentence? Are my reading comprehension scores really dropping into the negative integers, even as my “works and plays well with others” quotient is going through the roof? Have I really lost my touch when it comes to inciting those delectable blog wars that send everyone’s statcounters into the, um, hundreds (!)?
Eh, I’m sitting here at Eastside Radiology waiting for my annual Bone Densimetry test. Because I am old and brittle, that’s why. Some other old and brittle lady is talking in a stage-ready voice with an accent that puts Joan Rivers to shame, about some terribly appalling thing that waas on the news today. “Disgusting!” she screeches. “He’s 44 years old!” she gripes. And this rant “Outrageous! And I am a Jew!” I have, seriously, no idea what she is talking about.
Good good practice today. Did not want to leave. In fact, I closed the place down at eleven a.m. And yet on Sunday, there will still be the resistence to getting to the mat. It never ever fully ceases.