After a movie with M on Sunday, she invited us to join her for her yoga class on Monday night. Thinking that we’d try out the classes, Catfish and I were not quite prepared to hear that we have to sign up for a month at a time. At 80 000 won for three classes per week, it’s hardly expensive – the question in my mind rather is: At 37 degrees Celsius in the room, it is certainly HOT yoga; will I survive?
I’m getting a taste of the summer humidity that everyone keeps telling me about and, honestly, I don’t like it. I’m not a fan of heat – or sweating – and the idea of going to work in weather that will have me swimming in soaking wet clothes by the time I’ve walked from my apartment to my office is not an enticing one. The one major immediate advantage of the hot yoga is that I’m so tired after the class that a quick shower is immediately followed by my passing out on my bed for the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a while.
On a sadder note, I’m reminded that it’s now seven years since one of my closest friends drowned in an untimely accident. It’s scary to think that you can still miss people so much after so much time without them.