Stop living for the weekend. Don't put so much stock in Friday.When I checked the Outdoor Yoga St. Louis Facebook page, they were covering the same topic: Monday is only a day; you decide what it means.
It's okay. You're okay. Etc. Etc.
I've been trying to curtail and streamline activities so I haven't been going to Monday night yoga but Alison emailed me to say that she was back home and craving yoga after sitting in a car for an extended period of time.
Hadn't seen Alison since last Wednesday when I spotted her car on a parking lot and knew that she was either at Target or Trader Joe's so I kept my eyes on the TV to access the various thunderstorm warnings and decided to go to Donna's class. I had a feeling that since I hadn't been in ages, there'd be a substitute.
Got to the gym and saw Pam in an ocean blue ensemble on a stationary bike reading Gentle Yoga. I'm subbing for Donna she said.
Pam usually has themes to her class and last night's was shoulders and arms or shoulders and neck or shoulders and something. Can't remember but bananasana et al. was just what I needed. Prior to last night's class, my IT Band showed me who was the boss but I haven't felt a peep out of it since yesterday.
After class Alison gave me a gift from her garden and, as I drove home, I thought about an episode of This American Life, I Was So High...