Because in my life, everything circles back to food:Last weekend I did a private group yoga session as part of my friend Meg’s bachelorette celebration, but prior to that I got an insanely decadent, ganache-like hot chocolate with a homemade marshmallow.
I got it in a to-go cup with a lid so these dietician health nuts would just think I was drinking coffee. I had a few sips on the walk over, but then it was time for class so I kept trying to get into the mystical, spiritual headspace, but all I could think of was how my dessert beverage was getting cold, and I had a tremendous fear that my marshmallow would disintegrate before we finished our posing.
I sat in the back behind these insanely toned women who had stripped down into sports bras and booty shorts while I wore a loose t-shirt and smuggled a warm cup-o-calories behind them.
I sipped as often as I could in between downward dogs until the session ended. I raced out to the lobby to peer inside and see what remained of my marshmallow. Unlike the other girls, the only top I took off was the one to this cup.
The marshmallow was mostly in tact, thank goodness. I then shamelessly gulped my confectionary goodness, down to the last drop, licking the inside of the cup for good measure. Namaste.