Good Morning, World!
I was hurting this morning. Hurting superbad. Fueled by a "Where am I going to stay in Kerala and how am I going to get there?" freakout last night, I spent two loooong hours in the internet cafe. And that was two hours too long. The streets were deserted on my way back to the Hotel California, and a stray dog followed me, which, under normal circumstances would've been fine, but I was having a co-freakout about rabies, so I was convinced that the stray dog was going to knock me down and pounce on me and bite me and then I'd start foaming at the mouth.
You see why I need to get enough sleep. I came home and sat in bed, reading reading reading the same guidebooks for, um, the hundredth time, only because my web research led me to take certain hotels off the potential list for such great reasons as the hotel website doesn't seem like it was updated this month or I don't know if the hotel has a pool and the site doesn't answer that question and I decided I should read both the Rough Guide and the Lonely Planet books--again--just in case.
So, this morning at 5:45am, when I walked into my bathroom and saw Cootie's sidekick, The Biggest Cockroach Ever, chilling on the side of the tub, waving his little antenna at me in some sort of insect greeting, it was all I could do to not turn back around and pull the covers over my head. Instead, I said, "Why are you here?" and smacked my shower gel against the side of the tub, which led him to scurry back into the crevice he calls home.
To further excite me about my day, Anna and I walked out and it was a total Apocalypse Now sky, which is always a good sign, and I bribed myself with a pre-practice coffee ("I can have this coffee provided that I do all the standing postures!") and things got a little bit loopy after that. There was rumbling thunder and flashing lights and an elaborate pranayama that I just gave up on because I couldn't think straight. The rest of today has been more of the same; synapses just aren't firing and while I have a hotel reservation for Mumbai the night of October 5, I don't have anything in between. I've ruled out all of the Ayurvedic spas, though, because I think they force a restricted diet on you, and I think it would involve coffee detox, and I think if I can't have coffee right now, shit's gonna get ugly. And then all the other detoxers would vote me off the island.
The moral of the story is this: coffee and yoga don't mix. And sleep is important.
You see why I need to get enough sleep. I came home and sat in bed, reading reading reading the same guidebooks for, um, the hundredth time, only because my web research led me to take certain hotels off the potential list for such great reasons as the hotel website doesn't seem like it was updated this month or I don't know if the hotel has a pool and the site doesn't answer that question and I decided I should read both the Rough Guide and the Lonely Planet books--again--just in case.
So, this morning at 5:45am, when I walked into my bathroom and saw Cootie's sidekick, The Biggest Cockroach Ever, chilling on the side of the tub, waving his little antenna at me in some sort of insect greeting, it was all I could do to not turn back around and pull the covers over my head. Instead, I said, "Why are you here?" and smacked my shower gel against the side of the tub, which led him to scurry back into the crevice he calls home.
To further excite me about my day, Anna and I walked out and it was a total Apocalypse Now sky, which is always a good sign, and I bribed myself with a pre-practice coffee ("I can have this coffee provided that I do all the standing postures!") and things got a little bit loopy after that. There was rumbling thunder and flashing lights and an elaborate pranayama that I just gave up on because I couldn't think straight. The rest of today has been more of the same; synapses just aren't firing and while I have a hotel reservation for Mumbai the night of October 5, I don't have anything in between. I've ruled out all of the Ayurvedic spas, though, because I think they force a restricted diet on you, and I think it would involve coffee detox, and I think if I can't have coffee right now, shit's gonna get ugly. And then all the other detoxers would vote me off the island.
The moral of the story is this: coffee and yoga don't mix. And sleep is important.
posted by Rebecca at 10:51 AM
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