I’m still semi-sick. Still congested/runny along with a juicy cough with a general exhaustion accompanying even the most minor of tasks. I’m back at work, though, so that’s a plus. The downside is that the virus has moved on to another coworker – poor thing.
But today, for whatever reason, I really wanted to go to class. I didn’t plan ahead (which would have saved me, note to self) by bringing my clothes to work, but I decided mid-day that I would go and made sure I was properly hydrated and fed. I had planned on leaving work an hour early in order to make it to the 5:30pm class. Well, leaving at 4 turned into leaving at 4:45. I’m 30 min door-to-door, so I thought I could still run home, grab my gear, and haul ass to class which is less than a mile from my house.
Well, the Universe had other plans. It wanted me to hit every red light and get behind every slowpoke, which meant I didn’t roll into my house until 5:24. I still went for it, running upstairs to grab my gear and race to the studio. I thought “Hey, tons of people come at the last minute and/or come into class late… why not me?” Yeah, I rolled into the parking lot at 5:32 and saw through the doors that the lucky participants who got to class on time were already rocking their pranayama breathing. I parked for a moment, watching longingly from the wrong side of the glass, wondering why I felt so strongly that I HAD TO BE IN CLASS TONIGHT. I still don’t know.
In the end, I took that energy home and did some much-needed cleaning (being sick = laziness). Good, but not as great as class would have been.