This morning I got up and started the laundry and moved the car and did my toilette and drank hot lemon water and then went into the yoga room....
....where I found a freshly-produced cat-turd sitting on the yoga mat.
All together now: EWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!
* * *
As if that weren't enough - and it was - it's snowing outside, and the temperature in the dining room / workspace is 60 degrees.
Rather than turning up the boiler, the landlord proposes putting in a massive, wattage-sucking window unit that heats in the winter and cools in the summer.
My protests that this will shift the cost of heating the apartment from him to me fall on deaf ears.
And I contemplate moving the hell out of here - soon.
* * *
On Friday - my mother's death-day - Dreyfus and I learned that our step-brother died last month, shot by police in a cemetery standoff.
We cannot even begin to process this information.
On Saturday I searched for pictures of this blonde blue-eyed boy, and came across photos of our other relatives - all of whom are dead, dead, dead.
And I said some prayers for his sad soul.
* * *
Despite it all, I had a good practice today.... on my pooey yoga mat.
Like a steaming cup of chai, yoga is always there, no matter what, ready to uplift.
And for that I'm grateful.
That, and Lysol.
Very grateful indeed.