Adventures in unemployment:
The good news is: I was offered some host/bus shifts at a local diner today.
The bad news is: 3-4 shifts per week at minimum wage barely counts as employment, so I'm still hunting. Boy, is it ugly. I've got several applications floating, but so far no word.
Adventures in fun(der)employment:
While I was still employed, I splurged on a Groupon for one month of unlimited yoga classes at a studio nearby. Wanting to be productive/battle my French pastry belly/actually get my money's worth/etc, I hopped on over to Corepower today for a class called something like "Intro to Coreblast Sanathananayana."
When I opened the door, I was almost knocked over by the bougie. It's the kind of place that has a boutique in front that sells $100 yoga mats and lots of things that include the words "sandalwood," "lemongrass," and "flow."
No need to buy a $100 mat woven of organic yak hair at a fair trade cooperative in India, though, I have my own. I entered the studio--which, I should note, was balmy--and unfurled my unexotic yoga mat.
Uh oh. I had forgotten that I took my mat camping (well, not camping, but sleeping on the ground at my friend Cassie's farm) this weekend. It was filthy. I glanced around, hoping that none of my classmates or their pristine mats would judge me.
No sooner had we begun our sadasthantanayaga blah blah breathing and warrior poses than I was drenched. I don't know about you, but I hate to sweat in public under any circumstance, and I don't understand the spiritual cleansing power of sweat. If anything cleans my spirit, it's the shower I take afterward. Add the fact that I was dripping onto my dirty mat, and within moments, I was struggling to maintain breath and balance as I slipped around in mud.
I'm not sure whether I was more ashamed or amused.
Shananana-ding-dong.
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