I would like to take a moment to thank my Gut Instinct for being psychic this morning.
I went to bed last night, planning to go to yoga in the morning; but then I woke to a rainy day and my yoga spirit evaporated. I felt like the time spent going to my yoga class would be better spent cleaning up the mess in our future nursery and wrapping Christmas gifts.
But my brain kept saying that I should go to yoga, that yoga would be relaxing and restorative; my gut, however, kept insisting that it would be even more relaxing to stay at home in my pajamas and clean up the future nursery.
My gut won, but even as I sorted a pile of books for Goodwill, my brain kept complaining, You should have gone to yoga, you good for nothing bitch.
Then, ten minutes before my yoga class was scheduled to begin, my phone rang. It was my yoga studio! The yoga studio owner apologized and explained that class was being cancelled. One of the instructor's students had gone into labor and the instructor had rushed to the hospital to help. Class would resume as normal on Thursday morning.
Way to go, Gut Instinct! If I had listened to my brain, I would have ventured out into the rain for nothing and then I would have been annoyed that I had driven an unnecessary lap on the freeway when I could have been at home, moving old office supplies out of Baby Girl's future nursery.
Then again, what would have happened if I had gone to yoga early? Would I have been there as the student went into labor? Did her water break in the yoga studio? Did her voice lower eight octaves as she swore in an ancient Elven tongue? Could I have helped my pregnant comrade stagger to her car and then cheered as the instructor drove her to the hospital? Or maybe I could have driven to the hospital! And when a police officer pulled us over, I would have pointed to the enormous pregnant woman screaming in the backseat, and then the police officer would have escorted us to the hospital at 90 mph through Pasadena. Oh man, that would have been the most awesome Tuesday morning ever.
Thanks, Gut Instinct. Thanks for a big fat nothing.