1). I believe in segregation. Cancel that call to Jesse Jackson, people! I’m talking about food. My food is not allowed to touch each other. The spinach can look at the chicken. They can flirt, maybe even give each other a little wink. But if they’re caught canoodling, they’re deemed as defiled.
2). I sleep with a dog on my head. It’s a stuffed toy, and yes it is totally weird for a 34 year old to have a stuffed animal. It was a Valentines gift, and it is the gift that keeps on giving. It acts not only as a sleep mask, but as a noise buffer against my beloved’s incessant snoring.
3). I have mini-melt downs if the sheets are tucked in to the foot of the bed. It just makes me feel like I’ll never break free. The same panic sets in with turtle necks, and coat zippers that get stuck. When did fabric get so hostile?
4). I’ll inspect the items in your grocery cart. Everybody does that. But if mine is loaded down with red meat, and Doritos, and yours is stocked with kale, and Kashi, I’ll move on to a less judgmental line. What gives you the right to look in my cart anyway?
5). I do yoga (yay me!). It just gets weird when I find myself doing yoga poses while carrying out mundane chores. While pouring milk into my coffee the other day, I found myself in this position (pretty much).
Let’s just be thankful I wasn’t in crow position.
That would be awkward, especially because I can’t do this pose yet.
I can do this pose, which is the building block for crow.
Things just got weird. You’re welcome!