Burning Bridges

Well, I hope not, however, I just turned in a piece for MIND BODY GREEN entitled “7 Things No One Tells You About Being a Yoga Teacher.”
The editor-in-chief Kerry Shaw is awesome, and even though they want their pieces to be 800 words, and I turned in 2700, it’s basically all good.  I cut 700, and since it’s 9:34 pm, I’m calling it a day (and a half) and now it’s in her capable hands.
Since my essential attitude towards the yoga community is “Thank you so much, I had a wonderful time” I hope that comes through in the piece.  But you never know –– I do touch on some not-so-secret secrets about the scene.  We shall see …
In other news, my jump roping on the landing was interrupted today by a neighbor two floors down –– I thought initially to complain that my skipping was disturbing her –– but instead she wanted to confirm that the entire building had lost water, which in fact, it had.  Not great to lose showering ability mid-jump rope marathon at 11:30 am in Florida in June but thank God there’s a pool.
Weirdly, they later posted signs everywhere saying that the water would be back on in two hours but because a main was busted and repaired we were on a “48 boil water notice” –– as though I am supposed to know what that means (although it’s pretty obvious sorta.)
A google reveals that laundry and dishwashers on HOT are fine, and that it’s probably OK to drink the water but that it really should be boiled for 2 minutes, all of which I took as a sign from God that I should load up on seltzer and scotch as one of nature’s best disinfectants (and turn off the ice-maker in the fridge and just buy some cubes.)
And so, I’ve poured myself a nice tumbler of purified seltzer and Johnny Walker Red, listening to Cecilia Bartoldi’s SACRIFICIUM, an album I somehow didn’t own until last night.
It is, of course, a brilliant, gorgeous, Grammy-winning (her fourth I think) concept album of obscure Castrati arias.
But in a bizarrely interesting twist is that I learned from the digital liner notes that Naples (Italy) was the epicenter of castrato creation (the “Sacrificium” of the title), and well, I’m living in Naples (Florida, however.)
Basically, there are 7,000 sentences about the extremes the people in Naples were willing to make for art, all while I’m working 24/7 to promote my novel.
Anyway, I’ll say no more.
I’ve burned enough bridges today (probably) with doubtful water mains to put out the fires –– but so be it.

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