After being down for the count for what seemed like years and having been only recently fortified with a “z-pack” (antibiotics), as my medically knowledgeable friends call it, I am now free to move about with the relatively secure information that I shall rise above this funk and be well.
The wheezing you hear above the sound of my surprisingly percussive typing?
The good news is, I am now free to go to yoga.
The bad news is, I am now free to go to yoga.
For a solid week now, I’ve done nothing but sleep, bathe, test the limits of my afternoon-television-broadcast thresholds, and mutter fairly coherently about “good” and “bad” chocolate.
But now, with the addition of drugs to the scene – you’ve only to click here to see from whence I get my too-casual relationship with doctors – I feel I’m suddenly back.
Yes, back. Sweating and trembling and feeling all kinds of flabby.
I’ve decided, in that endearing and haphazard way that I have, that I am the new contestant on “Have You Always Been Like That?”
Previously only played in my head, “Have You Always Been Like That?” is an excitingly lukewarm game show in which I try not to become winded changing into my yoga pants while the teen-age fetuses around me make snide comments about cellulite.
I then go on, through my dogged persistence and those bizarre grunting noises I make whenever I fall out of a headstand, to become the audience favorite, the one they root for as other contestants lap me on the football field whilst shouting rude things regarding what induces ones buttocks to shake like two puppies in a gunnysack…
Like I say, it plays out very well in my head.
Terms of Endearment
40 minutes ago