A Rest. And, a Lesson.

Tonight is a rest night, after three classes in a row. And a lesson: no matter that there's an 8:30pm class offered at the studio:

I do not want to take it. I am constantly lulled by my relative get-up-and-go at 6:15, when I'm home and chilling out finally, into thinking that hey, 8:30 is doable! And also, great! Let's go!

And despite the fact that classes are like pizza--in general, it's very rarely bad, I am winding all the way down by 8:30, and don't want to be out driving around San Diego at 10pm.

So, this week, I'm planning to succeed to find myself in class at 6:30--which means packing clothes and keeping them in the car, bringing good food to school so I don't have to drive home but also don't find myself eating the leftover Hanukkah candy for dinner, and I think most of all, realigning my intention. The idea of going to the 8:30 class does not create peace, but sets up a struggle for yea!/ eh...domination.

Plus, it's finals week. And no matter how hot that room gets, no matter how many drops of sweat make their way into my eyes and ears, no matter how challenging the entire Standing series gets: it is better by far than grading.