I’m happy to announce that yoga and I are back together again after a long break. He’s so much better looking than I, and there’s no explanation as to why he continues to take me back. It must be my nice personality.
My relationship with yoga is like one of those on-again off-again doomed relationships. We both know he’s too good for me, but hot damn if we can’t help ourselves from meeting for a casual drink once every 6 months. I sit at the bar and cry in my chardonnay about how tired I am all the time and how I can’t seem to keep any kind of focus (“Oh, look! A butterfly! In a bar!”), and if we could get back together, it would help me in so many ways. And he nods sympathetically, even though I’m talking about myself again, and then he reminds me that I was the one who couldn’t commit to the relationship and it was I who wouldn’t take suggestions on how to better myself. To prove his point he says, “Now hold that plank for five” and I start to weep. “Okay, for two, then,” he says, and now I’m just moaning. And then I get off my barstool and say, “This was a mistake.” And he goes, “I’ll always be here for you, though, if you ever need me.” And I’m all, “But you’re so hard.” And he goes, “That’s what she said.” And then we laugh and I go home and eat three-quarters of a box of Cheez-Its and a half pound of Russian chocolates and never exercise again. [Read more…] about Yoga and I: The Dysfunctional Couple of the Decade