What's that there, you say? A swatch of living-room floor, that which I yoga'd on today. (The feet prove it, since you're probably doubting this impossibly awesome yoga-spot.)
Why'd I stay in today, when the beautiful and warm (albeit frequently-visited) beach lay just nearby? Because I honestly just wanted to stay in, to the point that I didn't even feel like donning pants so that I may at least yoga on the marsh-side back deck. Admit it: you've had days like this (and have probably made concessions to it like this, too).
(And here's some irony: this same morning, literally minutes after completing my hermit-like shut-in yoga session, I decided, on a total whim, to book a flight to DC, departing this afternoon. It was as if something inside me wanted to make up for my super-solitude yoga, to balance out my having deprived the outside world of my presence for an hour. Talk about impulsive ...)
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