better than before: day 21

Best laid plans, and all that. Yesterday turned out to be my Skip Exercise day for the week, and I fell shy of my 8K step target by 900 steps. Which I can make up today and tomorrow (as well as the ones from Monday’s bus-ride low count). Wanted to stay out with my work chums longer, and not rush home to dance with Denise A. Vodka sodas added to my resolve. When I did leave, at a reasonable hour, the TTC conspired against me and it took me a fuck of a long time to get home. So, straight into bed. And slept in this morning. Then did my yoga.

Which leads me to the BREAKTHROUGH on the yoga frontier. Yesterday at the office, I asked JK to instruct me in the ways of downward dog, because I am basically falling over every morning and it’s the part I dread in my 20 Minutes with Rodney. (Rodney, side note, has a whole scandalous personal life. What the what.) She very helpfully demonstrated, with her assistant Laura. Thanks to both because this a.m., I rotated my shoulders, repositioned my hands and managed to take most/some of the weight off my wrists and crunchy shoulder/neck and it was way way worlds better. I’m still bent-legged and far from doing it right, but it felt like I knew what I was supposed to aiming for. Finalement. I haven’t watched this sure-to-be-helpful video yet that Jen sent me, but if you also need tips for down dog (which is what JK calls, much hipper sounding than Rodney’s ‘downward facing dog’), here you go.

Time for me to make a rough weekend schedule. I’m concerned that I’m going to go to a party tonight and screw myself over for tomorrow — and tomorrow I’m planning on cleaning the house like crazy and making Chatelaine pea soup and some other kind of something, so that there’s food in the spic-and-span house when my ma comes to stay this week. So between that and my habits to-dos, I can’t afford to be wrecked. So, I hereby declare: I will not smoke more than…8 drags from my sis’s smokes (and zero of my own). And I will not chug down alcohol because I am sitting at a dinner table with people who all know each other but I don’t know them and my only party chit-chat concerns habit revamping and personality quizzes. I should probs be more specific about this: one drink an hour is what they say, right? I will aim for that. Also there is supposed to be dancing at this partay; here’s hoping for a proper make-the-floor-burn outing.

CALHOUN OUT.

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