A story about yoga.

I can't decide if I like yoga or not. I have a bad track record with yoga. One year in college, I think it was freshman year, I convinced Kate to go to a yoga class with me. We went every week for maybe 5 or 6 weeks. And then we went the next week, I got there late and led the two of us into the room where everyone was already in the middle of doing it but suddenly I didn't recognize the people and worried we walked into the wrong class. So I did what any normal person would do--I bolted out of the room and never returned. It would have been too embarrassing to go back. Who runs out of a yoga class and then shows their face again?

Fast forward 9 years, I decided to hit up a yoga class at my gym one night this week, for no other reason than nothing else to do and I sensed Kate needed a break from roommate time now that she is living in the dining room. I certainly did not need yoga to help me relax this summer, as I'm pretty sure if I became any more relaxed I would just be dead.

The kind of yoga is this class is vinyasa, which I learned means that all the poses flow from one pose to the next. That was good because you don't really stop in between to give your arms or back or whatever a break and resulted in a few sore muscles the following day. But the whole thing is kind of weird to me. Maybe I'm just not into the whole "spiritual/in touch with nature" part of it and prefer to do calm relaxing things on my own and not a gym floor with 10 other people? But after an hour of flowing from downward dog to warrior 2 and triangle pose (except she used all the Indian names for these so I was totally confused for an hour...) we lied on the floor while the teacher rubbed her hands over our faces and pushed your shoulders to the floor. It was really weird and took every bit of my concentration to try not to laugh. But I was eventually pushed over my limit when she then rang a little bell several times, I guess to signal that the quiet time was ending. It sounded like a dog bell. I don't know, I suppose I might try it again another week. If anything, maybe it'll be a good exercise in self control to keep myself from laughing in awkward situations.

Summer.

Summer is great.

Summer is even better than great. It's my favorite.

Flip flops, long days, warm nights. Green stuff growing all over the place (I mean outdoors, not moldy food), not shivering under 6 layers of blankets, spending lots of time outside. What's not to love?

Though I have to admit, I'm kind of excited to go back to school. I know though that come August 24th it'll be hard to remember I ever said that. It's just that I'm a routine-loving kind of girl, and my summer totally lacks routine. During the school year, I know pretty much what I'm going to be doing down the exact minute each day.

But this summer? Well, I go to bed not knowing exactly what I'm doing the next day. I might get up and if it's not too hot, read on the roof deck in my pajamas. Or make an iced tea and wander around the neighborhood. Or go for a bike ride downtown. Or stay up late to watch David Letterman because Taylor Lauttner is on. Er... did I say that out loud?

Anyway, I've got most mornings free, except for a few weeks later this month and in July when I'm babysitting in the morning. But I've got mornings to kill for now, and then a couple of hours of babysitting or tutoring in the afternoons. It's great, but I do like a little more structure. I need a project, or a goal (other than packing up and getting ready to move, because it's 87 degrees in my apartment right now and just typing is making me sweat).

Anyone have a project suggestion, or just need a personal assistant for Monday, Tuesday, or Friday mornings??