editing blues

Wow, my first troll. This little blog is growing up. *sniff*

Man oh man, has this been a tough day. It’s one of those occasions that reminds me that it’s largely no fun to be considered good at something. Edit this! Edit that! Tell me where this is! Give me a copy of that! I am so tired of MD being in the office bothering me. On the face of it, it seems strange and unfair that there is twice as much work when the boss is in the office – I mean, how else would the work get done, right? The total amount of work should not be any greater because of his location – but it’s true, the work is usually meaningless, and on days like today, it means that I can’t get anything done that I had planned.

Yesterday was the second chakra intensive, focusing on the…second chakra. I really don’t have anything interesting to say about it. I don’t have many issues in this chakra. No one except Jeannine, the instructor, really said anything, which I never like; much as I like feeling like an island in class, in this kind of intensive I like connecting with the other people. I realized on Saturday that I think I’ve only done yoga once this week, a pathetic practice on Thursday, but I just didn’t have any other time. I should have practiced on Monday and Friday and Saturday as well, but I…didn’t. The asana practice we did yesterday felt great, particularly a vinyasa hanumanasana preparation move that should have been agony for me, but instead was really quite nice.

I am seriously going places on the sock! I meant to take pictures last night but…didn’t. I will try to do it this afternoon. I hate how much less of my life gets done when I’m in school.

That’s all for now. Having a tough time here today.

One Response to “editing blues”

  1. Ooh I can’t wait to see updated sock pictures. I feel a little domestic myself lately…been canning homemade applesauce.

    And congratulations on your first troll! There’s nothing like smelly, chicken-butt trolls to validate your presence on the web. :)

    I tried to do apple butter once and it came out all runny. It was still pretty delicious, but not remotely as delicious as store-bought apple butter. Despite feeling like I’m somehow betraying feminism, there’s almost nothing that brings me as much pleasure as the domestic stuff.

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