So I’m at Trader Joe’s immediately after a grueling yogalates class. I’m in my complete yoga getup, my hair slighted matted down with sweat, and it’s obvious from how my arms shake when bringing my basket to the counter that I am completely and totally fatigued.
The only thing more stereotypical than a yoga enthusiast going to Trader Joe’s for groceries is the over-exuberance of the cashiers at said grocery store. So this young man, seeing me in such a state, goes, “Just got back from the gym?”
My first thought? “No. Killed a yoga instructor and stole her clothes. Hiding a body is hard work.”
My actual response? “Yup.”
And this is why I need to blog. Because this is the type of stuff that goes on in my head and it has to get out in a somewhat healthy way, lest my skull caves in on itself or I start letting the verbal filter slip a bit.
That (Not This) Abby Rose 