You put your left foot in, you take your left foot out...

I got pretty stressed out at work this afternoon ... so I came home in a royal blue funk (that's somewhere between an aqua funk and a navy funk), sat on the couch, and tried to come up with a non-Klonopin way of relaxing. The solution: yoga.

I haven't done yoga in about a year, ever since I stopped going to the free yoga classes paid for by the company. I miss my yogini, but at the time, I felt the more advanced students were being held back by my complete inability to balance on one foot while holding the other one backwards over my head.

I still have a couple of DVDs and my yoga mat at home, so Paul hooked up a small TV in a sparsely furnished room and we were off to the races.

For ten whole minutes, we tripped over our feet — and each other — attempting to shift between Adho Mukha Svanasana (Downward-Facing Dog) and Virabhadrasana II (Warrior II). I suck at Downward-Facing Dog but I'm very steady in Warrior II. My yogini told me this is because I have exceptionally open hips. Go ahead and laugh. My mother did.

After ten minutes, Paul and I just kind of sat there in Sweaty Lounging Slacker pose. We're both quite good at it after years of practice. Tomorrow, we'll attempt at least 12 minutes of yoga, and before you know it, Paul will be able to twist his six-foot-five-inch frame into a rather sizable knot. I can't wait.