Saw the doc yesterday, he increased my Zoloft dose and then insinuated that my job might be depressing in and of itself (he’s sort of intimately acquainted with my workplace).  I told him I like it enough and the things he thought would be stressful about it, are some of the things I like about it.  I can’t imagine that working anywhere else would be better. 

Sometimes I tell people that if I wanted to make people happy at work, I would work at the ice cream store instead of (workplace) but people can get bitchy at the ice cream store too so whatevs.

Anyway, I decided that I really need some yoga in my life.  I started craving a yoga class.  I never went to one before, but I saw it on Sex and the City.  Of course, I thought getting a pedicure with my friend would be like SATC too, and it was not wonderful at all.  But the yoga class I went to last night was way better.  I kept thinking, “Puedo hacerlo!”  which is probably unZenlike, but I didn’t hurt myself, even with all the downward dogging.  It was great.  I feel great today too.  I can’t wait to go again.

 

Jack is totally anti-yoga, he never wanted me to go before even though I knew it would be good for me, because of the weird Eastern-religion aspect of it.  I guess I don’t understand why it should be that way, why couldn’t it be just a lot of stretching, and the class I went to wasn’t really too much like that, which I was happy to report back to the skeptic at home.  He said, “That’s what you think.”  I’ll take what I want from it and leave the rest.