Yoga update

Went to my first class last night since the instructor released his book, and swore to myself I wouldn’t say anything dumb.
Of course, that lasted five minutes. I am congenitally incapable of shutting up. “Thought you’d be off on a book tour!” Apparently book tours are no longer a thing, however. These days you just have to go to writer and reader festivals instead. Does that mean no perks? I suspect sadly it does. Must take note for when I finally finish my book. Asher had just come back from a festival up in Auckland.
It was a gentle class. Far too many supportive poses for me, I like something to get my teeth into, like shoulder and head stands, cervical discs be damned. On the plus side, I never got called out for poor technique, which is always nice.
At the end of class, I just left with a dignified “thanks”. Ha! As if. I did make it out the door but since I had to wait for my yoga buds to get dressed (honestly, what do the boys do in there??) I came back in and said to Asher that my mum had been a prison psychiatrist in Auckland in the 80s (age giveaway alert!), and was a member of the Howard league for prison reform. He said he thought the Howard league was still a thing, and reform was certainly needed. So that was a nice interaction. It was only later that I thought I hadn’t said anything about his book at all. Maybe I should have asked him something about it? But honestly, writers must get sick of talking about themselves, their motives and techniques, all the time? Surely.