Structuring the week

Monday: The painful yoga class. I've now gone to four in a row, enough to see what bits remain consistent from week to week (the 20-minute sun salutations warmup; the agony of abs work just when I start to think it's quittin' time) and what changes (the lunges, the balances, the perverse forms the abs stuff takes). I don't participate in the oms that start and end the class, but if I did I'd be hard-pressed not to faff around singing in thirds just to be perverse. Better to stand in silence.

Tuesday: Mini-med! It's back! Aaand Georgetown fail: every single presenter on the roster is a guy. Bring back the goddess of the shiny knife! The first lecture, on obesity and whether it is or should be considered a disease, was full of neurochemical goodness. Human adenovirus-36, you interest me strangely. The second, on drug development, was a disappointment; the speaker covered maybe 12 of his 40 pages, and noncontinuously at that. The Elder Gods reserve special torments for presenters who flip around in their PowerPoints. He covered some of the development process and discussed a couple of things he's working on, including a bizarre but potentially lucrative product that would fluoresce when it reached target cells, so clearly he knew his stuff, but he didn't do a very good job of presenting it. He also got on my nerves by claiming that Viagra was originally developed as an anti-allergy med; it was in fact an anti-hypertensive (and is still sometimes prescribed as such).

Wednesday: Well, we all know about the standing date with Lear or some four-footed facsimile. Last night I got Lear after he'd been worked in a kids' class, so he was less of a fruitcake than usual. We worked on cantering large circles, rather than the full ring, an exercise that forces the horses to balance themselves more precisely; Lear promptly lost track of all his feet. He did, however, do a perfect haunches-in, good turns on the fore, and stretches down for the bit, and he's getting more consistent about collecting himself, so we had progress. Pat has decided to spring for a blood test to find out whether he's incompletely gelded; I await the findings with interest.

Thursday: Pilates, or possibly Chisel, if I can get up the nerve to spend an hour doing what I'm told are many squats. This is followed by going out with Teal for crepes, because balance is very important, and because the thought of Nutella may sustain me through the fitnessing process.

Friday: Watching Dollhouse. Cooking. Passing out.

This whole structured-schedule thing is all very well and good, but how the hell does anyone fit in basic chores, let alone extemporaneous fun, during the week?