So last week I was told by someone at work that maybe, just maybe, I'm a little brusque. A little hard-nosed. I got a great kick out of this. I thought this was a hilarious misperception...I'm about as far from the ball-breaking female lawyer stereotype as you can get. I mean, during a tough week, I still like to close my office door and have a good cry. I have to call my mom when something goes wrong. Yeah, I'm a ball-breaker alright. I brushed it off without a thought.
But today I decided there might be just a little eensy weensy teensy tiny kernel of truth in there somewhere. Not that I'm hard-nosed, but maybe just a little...impatient? Impatient is a little closer to brusque, isn't it? I was at yoga tonight after work. Already griping about the 90 minute class as opposed to my normal lunchtime class, where they whip us through in 45 minutes. As I did yet another pigeon pose, my nose to the mat, I kept thinking, "I don't have tiiiiiiiiiime for this! I don't have the time." My mind was racing with a list of things that I imagined I absolutely had to get done at that instant. So much for inner peace and tranquility and all that jazz. And then it got worse. We were doing our end-of-the-never-ending-yoga-class relaxation, all lying on our mats, wrapped up in our warm blankies. I just started to drift off into a happy place, thinking of absolutely nothing, the list-making finally subdued. And then...from across the studio...
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.
The comfy blankie, darkness and new-age music were too much for some guy. He started snoring. Loudly. For a loooong time. And I couldn't let it go. I wanted to throw my yoga block at him. And then throw my neighbour's yoga block at him. He was disturbing my 3 minutes of quiet for the day. I could barely keep myself from stomping across the studio to tell him to shut the hell up. That's when I realized...I might be a little bit brusque.
I guess I should stick to the 90 minute yoga classes...my chakra must be really blocked.
But today I decided there might be just a little eensy weensy teensy tiny kernel of truth in there somewhere. Not that I'm hard-nosed, but maybe just a little...impatient? Impatient is a little closer to brusque, isn't it? I was at yoga tonight after work. Already griping about the 90 minute class as opposed to my normal lunchtime class, where they whip us through in 45 minutes. As I did yet another pigeon pose, my nose to the mat, I kept thinking, "I don't have tiiiiiiiiiime for this! I don't have the time." My mind was racing with a list of things that I imagined I absolutely had to get done at that instant. So much for inner peace and tranquility and all that jazz. And then it got worse. We were doing our end-of-the-never-ending-yoga-class relaxation, all lying on our mats, wrapped up in our warm blankies. I just started to drift off into a happy place, thinking of absolutely nothing, the list-making finally subdued. And then...from across the studio...
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.
The comfy blankie, darkness and new-age music were too much for some guy. He started snoring. Loudly. For a loooong time. And I couldn't let it go. I wanted to throw my yoga block at him. And then throw my neighbour's yoga block at him. He was disturbing my 3 minutes of quiet for the day. I could barely keep myself from stomping across the studio to tell him to shut the hell up. That's when I realized...I might be a little bit brusque.
I guess I should stick to the 90 minute yoga classes...my chakra must be really blocked.