Namaste Mother******

The peg-leg hooker upstairs is stomping around like a woman scorned. That's the nickname B and I gave to our upstairs neighbor, because she clomps around at all hours of the night on what are either a set of extreme stilettos, or a peg leg (or...option three - both??). Anyway, someone musta done screwed her over good because, holy hell, she is yelling at someone at the top of her lungs, stompety stomping all over the place right now! I've never met her, but I'm sure she's quite pleasant.

Anyway, I went to yoga on Friday for the first time in a long time (peg leg hooker could stand to get her yoga on, if I do say so). I've missed the practice, but...this was not quite what I had in mind. We were in shavasana for about a third of the class, and for the remaining two-thirds, we held 3 poses total. I enjoy pigeon pose as much as the next gal, but I was hoping for something with a little more flow to it.

I have an appointment with my new personal trainer on Friday, and I cannot wait to meet him. When the membership woman at Pure (my gym) asked me about my fitness goals to help pair me up with an appropriate trainer, I told her on thing only - I wanted a trainer who could coach me in boxing. I miss boxing, which I got into a little bit when I lived in Chicago, and there is no other work out quite like it. I have never fought anyone (and don't plan to), but boxing as a form of exercise is the absolute best work out and stress release I have experienced. Pure does not have any boxing classes, thus I'm turning to Greg. If he lets me down, I may explore a boxing gym - I miss it that much.

I've been having some "Fight Club" type moments lately (maybe the desire to resume boxing was my first clue?). Tyler Durden is invading my thoughts with his gentle wisdom that I'll share with you now:

You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your fucking khakis.

I've decided to interpret this wisdom as I need to de-clutter. I know it's not quite what T-Dogg meant, and I'm doing the recalibrate/re-prioritize/get-centered/be less materialistic stuff too, but for purposes of this post's last little nugget of fun, let's focus on the de-clutter bit. I'm starting my de-clutter project with a full scale attack on the 3+ year stack of mail that I have sitting in my closet. This weekend I have spent a solid 4 hours sorting old mail and shredding documents. Who has two thumbs and a rock star lifestyle? This girl!

Listening to: Frank Sinatra by Cake