Today I am going to go out and DO something other than sit here and work on my book project so that tomorrow I will have something to blog about.
Because this is getting ridiculous. I pull up this page every day and stare at it and wonder: What the hell is happening to my life that I can’t think of one single thing to write? Should I talk about…
How I made someone nauseous in my Yoga Workout class on Monday?
How a foot of snow fell from the sky? *yawn*
How I drank a beer after class last night?
That’s scintillating stuff, I know, but blog-worthy?
Today is the 24th, which means I only have 4 days left on this
self-imposed torture project, unless I call February brutally short and give myself another week. Which I think I will have to do.
I started off thinking this project would be my own personal instruction manual. Something like: The Mechanics of Me: Parts and Labor.
But then all I could do was write about yoga.
(Yeah, go figure, right?)
Turns out I have some truly ridiculous yoga stories to tell. Like the day I came to on a floor at Kripalu, dressed in a full-body human being suit.