Nudie Kaboodie

I made a return visit to the fancy lady gym today. I really work best when I exercise first thing in the morning but I do yoga better (and run better) later in the day. I had some editorial work, which helped. It's much better when I have an actual task, as opposed to having to seek out tasks. And by task I mean something for which I am paid.

(I did apply for a couple of PT jobs today and a couple more yesterday. And my old birth certificate came in the mail! And my passport has been approved! So perhaps I did not need to spend that 35 dollars after all. But still, Ihugme for getting things done.)

Anyhoo, I was able to get into some wackadoo arm balances. I really worked at my edge, as they say-which is when I find yoga most satisfying. I don't know if it's part of my addictive personality, but I like things extreme, yoga-wise.

After class I took a spin through the hot trifecta. I extra-loved the whirlpool. It feels like a big happy naked lady Garden of Eden. I really enjoy the breasts. Not in a lesbian fashion-and not that there's anything wrong with that-but more that you just don't see normal breasts these days. TV is full of boob jobs, and that's where, if you live in the Northeast, you're going to see the most skin in winter. When you sit in a big bubbly bathtub full of naked ladies and your body, flaws and all, looks pretty similar to those other naked bodies, you feel really OK with yourself.

And as someone who spent many years feeling not OK with her body, it's a revelation.