Banana Saga: post practice perspectives

Ok. So, I ate the banana.

Plus, a 2nd small snack later.

The room was crazy humid. It wasn’t just me, and had nothing to do with food. E.V.E.R.Y.O.N.E was struggling… We’re talkin’ not even Lizzy Committee salvageable. It was rough. I thought L2 was gonna barf or pass out. The hot room potty was pretty much constant occupied. Even I peed in the hot room- hey! I drank a ton of water, and wanted to do bow. I only peed. Promise.

After cooling down, and having some water, I could have stayed. I was feeling ok. But, I needed food. So I went home to cook, eat, swing out, and relax- no trampoline, no handstands, no planking, no blocking. I think that might be how the regular people do it.

Except, I need to learn how to use utensils. There are probably some kiddie lessons on YouTube for this. Since I’ve only started eating foods with any kind of texture in the past 3 months, I’m just now getting acquainted with our friends “fork” and “knife”. Historically, if it couldn’t be eaten with a spoon, I wasn’t interested. But, seriously, if I ever intend to dine with humans, I need to pick up this skill.

Listen. I need to gush about, Laura here for a second. Remember how she said “EITF” when we met, and we were both like “DUDE! This is meant to be!”

I’m tiny.
And I use that to be manipulative.
I know I do it.
And anything I can do…
MV can do better.

She did not fall for that crap!

I’ve only met a small handful of people willing and able to stand up to me. That’s not to say she has ever written or said anything harsh… Actually, she’s usually far kinder to me than I ever am to myself.

But, this morning, while I was SURE I was about to meet an untimely death via banana. She didn’t waiver, or engage. She didn’t change her position, and didn’t help me to farther obsess by perpetuating an argument.

I was probably pissed at the time

But, once Dr. J adjusted MV back into oblivion and I was more capable of logical thought, there was no mess to contend with.

I didn’t have to figure out if half of a banana was ok all the time? Or only if I acted like an anorexic shit? Or only on Tuesdays… Or, or, or.

She never gave in. So the rules never changed.

It’s easier that way.

Anyone who has ever been on the receiving end of a Teenie Yogini meltdown and survived, without killing me, deserves a metal.

I’m sorry to everyone I said horrible things to this week. :-*


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