Ever since the 2nd week in January I haven't stopped to come up for air.
I work early in the morning.
I work through lunch.
I work through dinner.
I worth through re-runs of SATC on E!
Week 3 of hard core gym and yoga visits.
And frequent stops at Subway.
I probably haven't shed a pound, but I feel a little better about walking into that sweat-infested Barbie and Ken Shop.
In other news . . .
Don't get your panties all in a wad, but I'm in the midst of drafting a post about the most horrific YOGA experience ever.
I practiced yoga for the first time a year ago this month.
It was gawd-awful.
I thought I was going to die in the middle of class.
Either that or melt.
I didn't realize that a heated yoga room meant that you were exposed to the same temperatures you would be in the bellows of hell's kitchen.
I also blogged (ever so eloquently) about this first yoga experience.
A year ago.
On my old blog.
Which I accidentally deleted from the infinite internet universe.
Never to be found again.
Yeah, I'm that moron who had a blog for a while and deleted it.
I was that girl in high school you sat next too wondering how she made it that far in life.
Ahh, but I am more book smart then street smart.
And blogging is like being street smart.
And tech smart.
I lack those genes.
Any way, back to the topic about the next posting surrounding my most yoga class.
You'll piss your panties.
I almost did.
And not in the way you think.
Piqued your interest?
Maybe just a little?