I find myself somewhat scattered and unable to focus this morning, but need to get two things out:

1.  It dawned on me today that it’s ironic that I write a blog about music, and yet I can’t listen to music while I write. 

2.  I realized this week that I am still not mature enough for yoga. (“Namaste, Eddie“)   On my way to hot yoga, every single week, I sing this Foreigner-inspired tune in my head:  Hot yoga, check it and see/Heat the room up to a hundred and three/Come on baby can you Downward Dog/it’s hot yoga, it’s hot yoga…

(Self awareness and publication of one’s dorkiness is important, don’t you think?)