How was your Monday?

A friend invited me to a free yoga class last night. Knowing full well that a little bit of exercise is better than my current heart-strengthening diet of no exercise, I said yes.

Prior to going, I needed to cook dinner, feed Karis and myself, and drop her off at Matt's work. I fed myself some leftover tuna pasta. I warmed up some edamame in the microwave and tossed it in soy sauce for the now very hungry Karis. I ran off to my room to throw on my most presentable exercise clothes, a pair of black exercise pants that I foolishly painted my white china cabinet in thereby getting white paint all over them. Oh well, I thought and checked myself out in the mirror in the hopes that my outfit wouldn't give away my secret that I rarely do this sort of thing.

I headed back in the dining room only to find Karis had dumped all the edamame onto the table and had soy sauce all over her and said tabletop. I quickly cleaned her up, made her a peanut butter sandwich for her to eat while I was driving (at this point I didn't care how messy it would be in the car), and then made a quick peanut butter sandwich for myself (tuna pasta, while tasty, isn't filling).

I hastily put her in her car seat and realized I never got around to buying a yoga mat. Curses! I made a dash into the laundry room and grabbed a towel out of the dryer. It will have to do, I thought. I drove to Matt's work, dropped off Karis, and headed on to class.

When I arrived, I walked into the room and was met with a sea of infinitely cool yoga mats. I slumped down and wanted to hide in the back but my friends, with big beaming smiles and yoga mats, beckoned me join them up front.

Seeing little other option, I stretched out my gleaming white towel on the stark black carpet and sighed. My breath smelled like tuna fish and peanut butter, my hands reeked of soy sauce. My pants had big paint stains, and I was sitting on a big white bath towel.

At least I didn't fart during the 'downward dog' stretch. That was the lady two mats down. I swear.