Nothing in particular...

Natalie just posted 100 interesting things about herself on her website. I read them all and thought, "Well now, that's a novel idea. I think I'll do the same." And then I realized that I'm feeling too lazy right now to do that, and instead I'm more in the mood to just write little comments about each of her 100 things. While it might spur lively webversation between her and I, it would probably prove to be rather boring for the rest of you, most of whom probably don't know Natalie.

So, in other news... I'm going attempt to make it to power-yoga again at 5:30 tomorrow morning. Don't be deceived. I know that the phrase "5:30am power yoga" evokes certain mental images of self-disciplined, pulled-together, trim and toned morning women with, what appears to be, a lack of ribs (how else do bend like that?). Such is not the case. Not my case, at least. That is the image I would like to live up to, but really, I'm just a wannabe. I barely drag myself out of bed at 4:50am one morning per week, and stumble into class, half-conscious. By the last 10 minutes of class, the cool-down period, when you lie in corpse pose and "clear your mind of worries and tension," I'm either struggling to stay awake, or just getting started prioritizing my worries and tensions for the day.

Last Thursday the instructor said, "Close your eyes, and go to wherever you want to be." So I took myself to Greece. I was sitting in the sunshine, among red potted geraniums on the roof-top patio of my whitewashed, blue-shuttered house stacked with hundreds of other matching houses on the side of a hill in a dense, car-free island village, looking out over blue seas. It was eutopic for about three and a half seconds. And then I thought, "Why am I here? How am I paying for this gorgeous little house? If I'm blowing all my money, just kicking it here on the Mediterranean, how am I going to pay for grad school? Am I going to go grad school? When? Should I be in school now? Shouldn't I at least be working? This is far too perfect to be responsible. Should I even be here? Did everyone at home think I shouldn't be here? Was this a bad idea? Should I have stayed in Rapid? Is my little sister mad that I bailed on my middle-school girls just when she became a middleschool girl? Who took my job at the clinic? Will I get my job back if I go home? Do I need it back? Do I miss home? What if something happens to my grandparents while I'm out of the country? What if something happens to anyone while I'm out of the country? "

So I came back to poweryoga at the gym in Rapid, because going to work was suddenly not seeming like a stressful activity at all. So, see? I'm not what you think of when you think of "5:30am poweryoga." Not at all. If I can do it, so can you. Except that I maybe can't do it tomorrow. It's almost midnight. I'm out. Night.