Breakfast the Seventh

Special K with red berries and banana again. 

There's nothing like the fluorescent glare of changing-room lighting to make you swear never to go shopping again without troweling on the make-up. While viewing one's not exactly pert bottom from every possible angle has a rather catalyzing effect on one's willingness to exercise.

I actually practised some yoga moves this evening. No more successfully than last time. I get so confused as to when I'm supposed to be breathing in or out that I stop breathing altogether. Alas, I fear shall be the class dunce again on Tuesday. Asphyxiation problems aside, I'm also hopelessly inflexible. Last week the teacher kept saying things like, "if you can, hook your fingers around your toes; but if not, just hold your ankles." I could barely reach my knees. Naturally the girl next to me was implausibly bendy which made me look all the more ridiculous.