Monday, November 03, 2003

Another fluffy day

I actually left the house this morning and took a yoga class.

Now, I realize that for many people, this is No Big Deal. There are just so many slender, well toned, gold draped, well manicured yoga students out there for whom this is normal (and even more slightly overweight, hardworking people). Hitting the gym, for some, is challenging but doable. I don't know any of those people.

In fact, in even more shocking news, I'm going to try to get in at least 2 classes a week, if not three. I signed up and everything. I have one of those little swipe tags, the kind that go on your keychain, that subtracts each class I take when I go in. Very high tech, actually. And because I know the folks who own the yoga studio (and the Husband is a part time instructor there) you should go check out their website.

I didn't do anything else worthwhile for the rest of the day. That's what happens when you start off with the high point.

Oh, I made the bed, did a little laundry, and even picked up the bedroom some, but nothing IMPORTANT. I came back all energized and ambitious, but slowly I wound down until I was doing what I'm doing right now -- sitting on the bed with my laptop and goofing around on the web. I rated and queued up more movies on Netflix. I finished reading the last of my latest vampire mystery series as I defend my right to read trashy literature. I even did some work on my book lists (and you should just hurry right on over there to see exactly what I think about things, yes you should.) I think I Blogrolled someone's site. OH, the excitement is endless. It's amazing I have time to breathe.

Actually, I should be getting some jewelry made. We have a show this weekend, a new show in the arts and craps line. I'm not holding out a lot of hope for it. On top of that, I've had this weird sore spot on the inside of my right thumb. When doing wire work, that spot on your thumb is essential for pushing and prodding the wire into the appropriate locations. Since anything approaching pressure on this particular spot comes complete with ouchy sensations, I find myself disinclined. I'm pain adverse, what can I say? Directly opposite the sore spot on my thumb is the calloused spot where my bird bit me last week (she's a vicious bloodsucking beast, is what she is) that has only just started to heal. Of course, the bird nailed me in the one spot on that finger where I always bump or rub, which means even the bandaid was annoying.

My life is full of minor irritations that I build up to enormous proportions in order to have something to say.

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