separation anxiety

In the past two weeks, I have added yoga to my regular schedule.*

I've been telling myself for the past three years that "I'm going to go to yoga at 6:00 am and begin my day in a yoga glow." Ha, ha -- because, for the past three years, I've been too lazy, busy, or sleep-deprived to actually get out of bed before 6:00 am.

However, tomorrow will be the third day this week I've actually COMPLETED this goal. (Mon - Wed - Fri).

I'm not even cringing at how early that is, or worried that I'll hit the snooze button at that crucial get up - or go back to bed moment.

Why? Because I haven't been since yesterday morning and I'm already having separation anxiety from my yoga mat. It's all rolled-up and cozy in my car. I can't wait to hear it unroll when I place it on the warm floor in the yoga studio, emblazoned by the early morning sunshine, and practice my heart out
. . . 'til we meet again my love.

*Before law school, in my Vegas days, I was an avid yogi, going at least 3x/week. Since law school, my practice has been sporadic and inconsistent... so much that I felt lost without it.**

**I'm now found.

Update: I made it this morning, and I'm so glad I did. The instructor was the best I've found in a long-time, really helping me focus on the mental/spiritual part of practice, rather than the physical. Too bad she's pregg-o. She may be there next Friday (her last day before maternity leave) unless the baby can't wait.