Karma

I decided after the Pilates class a couple of weeks ago that I should probably keep attending because it would be good for my flexibility.  Right now I don’t have any.  I can’t touch my toes without bending my knees.  It’s always been this way.  We had to do the Sit and Reach in school and I never even reached to the numbers on the little box.  My teachers were always appalled.  (This was just one of the many reasons.  I’ve never done a pull-up either.  I’m pathetic.)

Yesterday at the class I nearly tooted on the roll-up move; the exact move that elicited the stranger’s flatulence the first time I attended.  Worse yet, we did a new move where we scrunched up into a ball and rolled down onto our backs then rolled up again.  I could feel the rumblings in my belly and desperately tried not to squeeze one out.  It was like attempting to smother Old Faithful with a tube sock.  The Heckler has become the Hecklee.   

Karma really is a #!@*%!