Hot yoga …. no bueno 

Today was a first. Today I tried hot yoga. I almost died. I can barely balance a full tray of drinks let alone balance my body during tree pose. I love yoga though. I’ve done it about ten times and loved it. This time was different. The room was 90 degrees. No offense, but I can’t get with the hot yoga trend. Heat is my bestie, on the beach with a frozen drink in hand.

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This was torture. I feel like the instructor might have been carded by me at some point. This was total pay back. I should have served her that  Long Island ice tea. I kept going back and forth in my mind. What did I do to deserve such pain? All of the stretching, lifting,holding,twisting in this heated room was a nightmare. Not to mention the movements had names. What the hell is a half pigeon?  I felt like I was cheating on a test. Was I the only one who didn’t get the study guide before class? I copied off anyone I could. I wish you could have seen me. No bueno.

After my work week, I always wake up feeling like I was hit by a mac truck. I’m not exaggerating here. You won’t really understand until you wear two inch heels, while carrying a tray of glass ware, up and down a casino floor. Therefore, it is important to take care of myself. That is why I agreed to go to yoga today. Sounded like a good idea, seemed legit. I thought it would be relaxing and good for me. I failed.

Moving on, I’m going to see my massage therapist. This is more my speed, my speed is zero. I want to be laying down while doing absolutely nothing. If you are a cocktail server you should have one of these, along with a Chiropracter, on speed dial. (Oops I just dated myself.) I mean Siri should know these two contacts by heart. Actually, every human should have these two wonderful people in there life.

Cheers to a relaxing weekend for those of you who are off. The rest of us have to work.

Happy Friday!

Published by Confessions of a Cocktail Server

Aspiring blogger .... Currently a cocktail server with 117 dreams to fulfill .... Jill of all trades master at most... follow my tales of trying to survive cocktail serving , dating, adulting & life period.

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