Sunday afternoon

Blink and you miss it.

It amazes me that weekends vanish, and you turn around and it's over. The mystery of the missing weekend. And all weekends seems to contain at least one 3 hour block of time centered on the lounge where one talks about what one should be doing. I just had one of them.

And then you realise it's too late, and you should go to yoga.
Now I'm off to yoga. Hot. Hot sweaty stinky yoga, a that.
Later dude.