I ended my yoga practice tonight by chastising myself for not keeping my old PPO health insurance (never sign up with an HMO, unless you really want to rely on the random love of chance and cute idealistic doctors...which might be a good reason). I lied in "shavasana" (the point at the end when you sprawl out like a dead person and the point at which I'm the most wound up...why can't we lie comatose in the very beginning when I don't have any endorphines pumping through my body? That's when I really want to do nothing!). Afterwards, I came home and ate one of the Halloween sugar cookies that my "Sex and the City" friend brought over for my dinner party last weekend (I call her my "Sex and the City" friend because she's like Charlotte, Samantha, and Miranda all wrapped up in one package...with a little bit of Carrie). Now, it's my understanding that yoga is supposed to make one more accepting of one self and in touch with the health of her body. Not riled up in a ball of self-hatred and clamoring for sugar. I am very disssappointed. Something's not right. I feel more peaceful after watching two episodes of "Enterouge" and the middle-portion of "French Kiss" at 1:00 am! As every stand-up comic in the 80's used to say, "What's up with that?!"

Just for today, I stand in doubt of the peaceful effect of yoga.