Bad Man!

This morning I practiced Primary in the work gym. Cold. Dark. Drafty. Noisy.

This evening I was a Bad Man and played in a led improv class led by a friend.

Tomorrow: Friday Mysore at Tim's. It'll either be really good, or awful. Either way, it'll be cold.

Every morning I practice I come to work feeling like punching the air and cheering. Every morning that I don't (moon days, or sick days), I have a headache, lingering apathy, the antithesis of a practice morning. That alone is worth getting up at 4:30 and spending an hour commuting to and from the shala in SoCal traffic.

Fuck yeah, yoga!