What percentage of Americans will actually watch the Superbowl?
If you expected to find an answer here then I’m sorry to disappoint, but I have no idea what the answer is…I just wanted to know if you knew…
I have this Sunday blues thing, which I’ve mentioned here before, and today, because I’m stressed but highly excited about tonight’s class..the one I know all the people who love me will be at, the Sunday blues came on early. Or earlier than they usually do.
I called L., one of my bestest friends, to ask her why I’m sad. “Do you think I should go on anti-depressants?” I asked.
“It’s just the Sunday blues,” she said.
“Oh yeah.” I said. As if I didn’t know, but of course I remembered. But still, I hate this thing, this every Sunday empty feeling, this blah, blah, bluch, sort of thing, and I feel weak and sad and underloved. I want to blame it on the Bikram Yoga I did this morning, is that a good excuse?
Bikram Yoga makes me loopy but it’s also addictive and I can’t stop doing it. Even though my introductory week, the one week where it’s not so expensive to do the yoga, is now over, and classes cost around $12 each (on the cheap side) I’m going to have to keep torturing myself with the heat induced stretching that overtakes me in the bikram yoga studio. But now it’s over 3 hours later and I feel like I’m on another planet from yoga this morning.
Trying to get back to Earth.
I’m sitting in my favorite free wireless Internet bagel shop and the people next to me are talking about the Burning Man community. I know all the people they’re talking about but not the people sitting next to me. It’s strange to be sitting next to a table full of strangers hearing them talking about your friends..
Okay. Other deadlines call. Aliens from another planet call. The ghost of Bikram Yoga past calls. I gotta go, it’s for me. Damn those Sunday blues.