Yesterday was more of the same, but in the evening I forced myself to go to a vinyasa class at my local yoga center. It felt really good to sweat and move, and for once the chummy atmosphere (e.g. pairing people up for "partners yoga") didn't rankle or feel invasive. I felt alive and bouncy and flouncy and Tiggerlike for the rest of the night.
An acquaintance of mine (who also used to temp at Lehman Bro's, in fact) was playing her countryish music at a coffee house in the Slope, so I dropped by for a spell, stupidly drinking a late-night cuppa joe that transformed me into Tigger's amphetamine-addicted pal Jitter. I had to come home and, like, jazzercise for an hour in order to calm down.
But still, it was the first happy, plainly fun time I've had in weeks. I hung out with my bass player Lesh and his family, and I felt snug as a bug. A jitterbug.
Every time the thunder clapped last night I bolted up in bed convinced that buildings were being blown up.
Tonight I'm playing a few songs at the local watering hole, and then early tomorrow I have to ween myself away from my ravaged city, to drive up to Montreal to celebrate my first wedding anniversary. I've never been to Canada before...if anyone has any ideas of what Montrealites do for fun, lemme know. It feels weird to be leaving the city at this time.
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