B. and I went to a yoga class tonight. It will, purportedly, calm my nerves and relax my muscles. I would love to find anything that can work well on both my psychology and my physiology. I procured a new student discount pass that’s good for unlimited classes for three weeks. I’ve booked a class every day through next Sunday, so far.

Speaking of student discounts: I wish I was still around Berkeley so I could use my school ID for student rates. Students get sweet discounts on everything. As much as I am mistaken for a student, it’s tricky to explain why “University of California” is emblazoned across my school ID when I live in Pennsylvania.

The mat situation was unpleasant. We had to rent studio mats, and I kept thinking about how many other sweaty bodies had lain prostrate upon the mat before me. I thoroughly grossed myself out and couldn’t bring myself to let my face touch it. If I’m going to keep doing yoga – we’ll see after these three weeks – then I will definitely need to invest in my own.

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At the beginning of class, the instructor asked if anyone was new to yoga. I didn’t raise my hand because I took a few classes in college, but out of the corner of my eye I saw Bobby’s hand sneak up. His face turned bright red every time he went into downward dog, but he had to hold me steady a few times during balance poses. After class, the instructor approached B. and told him he did so well she’d, “never guess he was a brand new yogi.” He’s a natural yogi.

I do apologize for being a shitty blogger. I go weeks without a post, followed by a burst of back-to-back posts. I’d say I’ll try to do better, but we all know that’s not going to happen.