Let's Explore Diabetes With Owls & Do Yoga

Simultaneously.

jk.

Ladies and gents (do any gents read this blog?), this has been the longest week of my life. I feel as if the world's been spinning in slow motion since Monday. I can't concentrate at work, I feel clumsy and out of whack at yoga, and no matter how hard I try, I simply cannot seem to roll out of bed on time in the mornings. It's just been one of those weeks, you know?

The highlight of my week was last night when I got home and saw that the new David Sedaris book was on my doorstep. I love, LOVE him! He is so hilarious and makes the seemingly ordinary life events outrageously hysterical in his prose. I bought it so I could have some new reading material in Cabo, but I'm not sure I can wait till then! I might have to delve into it tonight...

And speaking of hot yoga, remember the post about yoga etiquette I wrote a few weeks ago? Well, number 3 (mind your personal hygiene) was broken by a fellow yogi the other day. It was the most disgusting thing I've ever experienced! I seriously thought I was going to pass out with every inhale. The smell coming from this man was outrageous!  I'm not trying to be mean about it, it was just very disgusting and distracting! So much so that my personal practice suffered because of it!! Not cool. 

So all you who do hot yoga...use deodorant, brush your teeth, don't eat Indian food, shower before class if you must! And please, please, steer clear of me if you suffer from excessive body odor issues because next time I'll punch you in the face.

Happy Friday, friends. :)

"Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend..." - Groucho Marx

The best gift my mother ever gave me was a love for reading. Between the worn covers of a book lives some of my closest friends. I can gently stoke the pages and relive the hours spent in that other life --so unlike my own. 

I am so thankful for those books. The characters I've met within them. The strange, unearthly attachments that have formed. Because, oftentimes, Washington is lonely..

Because Sometimes Happiness Is Found Within A Not-So-Happy Ending

Dear Edgar Allen Poe, although I am usually not a fan of any American author/poet, you have pleasantly surprised me. I enjoy your dark humor and irony, but, more so, I enjoy that I have yet to read a poem or tale with a happy ending.

In a strange, morbid way, I find that refreshing.

But just in case I do become afraid while turning through your pages that are brimming with psychological intensity and depth, I made sure to use the book mark my mother gave me.

Because it too brings me much amusement.

Lunch break is over, time to put you away and resume editing and formatting boring black text that truly does not do a thing for my soul. 

p.s. You'd be mortified if you had to read what I do everyday.