My morning Ashtanga yoga practice is taking a lot longer these days. This wouldn’t be such a big deal if I didn’t have to go to my good government job afterwards. Yoga taking longer means getting to work later and then having to stay later. By the time Doc B and I get home and make dinner its pretty much time to go to bed.
Anyway, I’m so busy with work and yoga that I’ve lost track of some very important things in life.It’s gotten so bad that I hadn’t even heard of Alabama Shakes, and my wanna be alter ego self Brittany Howard, until last week. I could listen to Always Alright 24/7 and dream of my back-up singer rock star career. And speaking of dreams, I’m now dreaming about yoga. Last night’s REM hallucinations included my yoga teacher shaking me out of savasana to remind me that I had forgotten to do the last three postures in the closing sequence. Doc B loved that one when I shared it this morning.
So with hardly any time left in my day, I’ve totally lost track of what and who I’m supposed to be boycotting. Can I go to Chick-Fil-A yet? If I can’t give them money for an order of waffle fries, can I at least use their bathroom?
I probably never should have let myself become attached in the first place. But when you’re a Yankee who’s first job was at a greasy McDonalds and then you move to the south as an adult, well, it’s a given that you’re going to have to at least try Chick-Fil-A. And then they suck you in. The Chick-Fil-A teenage staff are always so nice that I was even willing to let them take Sundays off…so long as they came back on Monday prepared to serve me my sandwich without judging my religious or social views. And I’m sure they are still all that sweet but I haven’t been to one since the summer of 2012 so I wouldn’t know.
What about Cracker Barrel? I’ve never been quite clear on whether or not this boycott ended. Not that I ever think about Cracker Barrel or their breakfast casserole but what if your mother-in-law wants to go there on her birthday? Or if your boss wants to stop there on a business trip? How do you say no to them? And if the boycott is still on, is it okay to eat there if your mom-in-law or superior commander pay for it?
And then there’s my quinoa quandary. Can I eat it or not? Are the Bolivians really having to eat crap because the quinoa they produce is now in such demand that they can’t afford it? I mean, I like it and all, but I lived without it for 45 years and can certainly forget that I ever knew what it was. (Chick-Fil-A has now been with me half my life – it’s a little harder to break the habit.)
Oh, and what about Boy Scout popcorn? My brother is/was a friggin’ Eagle Scout. How do I turn down the cutest little neighbor boy when he shows up at my doorstep in that adorable uniform that’s just a little too big for him (and with that dad standing behind him that’s hotter than Cholula chili lime sauce)? Simple, you get all flustered and hand them your checkbook. You totally forget if you are supposed to boycott the Boy Scouts.
Well, I’m off to JC Penney to buy some stuff. See you at yoga tomorrow?