Denouement - The Beginng

I planned to have a series of amusing anecdotes to share about my guy's journey from spending all day on the couch watching The Unit (I can get behind a good David Mamet play - Glengarry Glen Ross is oft quoted in my circle - but 6 consecutive hours of soap operas for men gets a little much), to a yoga accepting convert. Instead of I have one and a half.

My guy deliberately stalled and took his time getting to the studio on Saturday, opening day, so he would not have to take the class. He did, however, sign the waiver and watch me pay. Then we went shopping for a yoga mat and towel. Or rather, I shopped for said items while went in to future shop and played with mobile phones. Sunday came and I relentlessly pushed as he attempted the same stall tactics. I was determined to take the class and have huge issues with being late so there was no way I was going to allow a repeat of Saturday. En route to the studio he opined that yoga was "stupid" and that he had "zero interest". We took the class, on the way home he asked if there was one at 5 pm the following day that he could attend after work. Which he did. In fact he's been to a class every day since. Just like that, months worth of writing material is out the window. Don't misunderstand; I am incredibly pleased by his new found love of hot yoga. I cannot help thinking, "well now what?" When one prepares for an epic battle, there is a sad denouement about having victory handed to you.

If I don't having anything to post for a while, blame my yogi guy, it's entirely his fault!