Taking one of my usual walks with my friend today, and I dreamt that I stood her up and got my pupils dilated instead, something I have never, ever done. I had this idea that I could walk around with dilated pupils, I guess, and that it would all work out just fine. I am confused and inconsiderate in my dreams sometimes.

This morning we hit the pranayama really hard and I felt pain in my lungs. What is this lung mutiny? It felt a lot like December and January when I had pneumonia. I put my hand on my chest, as if you can smoosh away lung pain, and the teacher came over and told me to Slow It Down, Farmer Brown. I told her that part of the reason I was back in yoga immersion now was to push out the last of the sickness. I feel like it has hung around like a slowly-dissipating cloud.

“Well, try nudging it away instead of kicking it out,” she said, after class.

“Okay,” I said. I like this.

I was pulling my hair back this morning with barrettes so it would not hang in my eyes and I have discovered I can still make victory rolls in the front, which are slightly hilarious with my hair spiked up in the back. I am party in the front, business in the back. The cats were trying to get in to both of the doors in my bathroom like they were marauding Morlocks and I was just a wee Eloi, nibbling on cliff berries and trying to get my hair did. Well, F that N.

My eyes fell on the squirt bottle that I give myself a quick mist with on mornings I am in a hurry but still don’t want to look like Yahoo Serious. I set phasers to “stun” and whooshed open one of the bathroom doors where tiny felines were scrabbling under it like their lives depended on it.

SQUIRT SQUIRT SQUIRT SQUIRT!

I whooshed the second door and repeated the process.

Oh! SHOCK! Panic! Betrayal! AUGH! Cat and kittens scattered, their clever plan for annoying the Friskies out of me SMASHED. As I left the house they were still lick, lick, licking off all the offensive water. Since that was entirely too much fun, the squirt bottle now resides on my desk.