the trim is done. now to remove the tape, sand down the couple of places i dripped, and cut in. strangely, i seem to really enjoy that part of it, even though it takes longer and is more precise work. i’ve gotten really emotionally attached to my 1 ½ inch trim brush. it’s the OCD talking, i’m sure.
oh and i will never again ask myself why i do yoga. never again will i question the real-life value of my practice, not after having to use side plank repeatedly to move back and forth in a two-foot corridor between the entertainment center and the wall, while trying not to disconnect i don’t know how many cables. not after having to mount and descend a teetering old stepladder, keep a steady enough hand to cleanly edge the walls, and avoid both dripping and dropping the paint. (our human resources manager, who strongly encourages safe behaviors both at work and at home, would have had a shit-fit.)
painting a house, even just the inside rooms, involves attendant physical challenges: stretching and squatting and contortions and nerves and stress. six years ago, it completely wrecked my neck, shoulders and knees. now, it’s the not moving, the sitting back at a freaking desk, that’s doing me in. for the last two weeks i’ve been moving at a nice humming-along pace, sitting down for maybe an hour every day, including drive time. it’s no wonder i fantasize about yoga and stepladders. they're fun compared to this.
practice yesterday was humbling. i tried to get up for a morning session today, but duckie was up three times last night – the first to tell me she had to go, the second to get help finding a new pair of underwear because she had gone. i had to change the sheets that time. doing laundry at 3 in the morning is always a blast. i only vaguely remember the third instance. i think it resulted in her locking the cat out of her room. this is understandable, because our cat is almost as big as she is (there's a lot of maine coon in him) and monstrously flatulent to boot. anyway, this morning i had to pick the lock from the outside before i finally just asked her to open the darned thing.
she opened it helpfully, looking all sweet, just in her underwear, those unbelievable crystal blue eyes framed by a wild shock of blond hair. (she’s going to make a great Tinkerbell for Halloween – her idea, not mine.)
“honey, why’d you take off your nightgown?”*
“because i did, mommy.”
“aren’t you cold?”
“uh-huh. will you get me some juice? i want a big one.”
oh. well. of course. whatever.
i’d say i miss my mat, but at the moment it’s really pissing me off. here i was all pleased that i’d managed to clean it over the holidays, and now i’m noticing an annoying lack of traction in the back feet during standing poses. i took a good look at it yesterday after practice and sure enough, there are bits of the rubber flaking off where my feet usually go. the whole back half of the mat is distinctly thinner.
so ok, time for a new mat. maybe i can borrow (ok, steal) duckie’s for a while until i can pick up a new one at cat’s studio – she’s got some lovely extra-thick extra-long ones that she gets in bulk, then cuts up for class use. it means i’m gonna have to get back to the studio, though, and i don’t see that happening until the end of January. pppthpt.
but how cool is that? i actually wore out a yoga mat. who would have thought?
*this is a silly question on my part. she just learned to take off her shirts by herself, so of course she’s going to practice at any given opportunity.