Conjunctivitis of the Third Eye

I attended my first Yoga session the other evening and was filled with profound thoughts that I will now condescend to share with you (oh lesser spiritual beings).

The concept of the "Third Eye" was perhaps the most intriguing, though I am left with a couple of questions. First, why would the band "Third Eye Blind" imply, through its choice of name, that its members are musically incompetent and its lyrics shallow? At least the band has the decency to warn consumers. Second, what would happen if someone were to start scrambling around during a Yoga session complaining of the loss of a third contact lense? How would one put it in in the first place?

By the way, the Fort McMurray S.P.C.A. need no longer concern itself with finding homes for its feline charges. Let me explain: during yoga, we were asked to think of a "positive word." The word that instantly popped into my head was "cat." I like cats, you see; I have "positive" feelings towards them. Even better, ever since taking high school chemistry, I've always thought of the word "cat" as "positive: after all, aren't "cations" positively charged, whereas "anions" are a dark lot--the sort that bring you to tears like onions? At any rate, I filled my mind with the word "cat," believing that my thoughts would remain private. Imagine my shock, if you will, when we Yogites were asked to send our positive words "out into the community." Although I felt hopeful that more adoptions would take place in Fort McMurray, I was sorry to bombard my husband's third eye with the word cat, as he has terrible allergies.

All in all, Yoga was an enlightening experience, even though my energies kept coursing in the wrong directions (which felt akin to taking the wrong steps in a social dance class). I even learned that despite what my mother says, I do in fact have a halo around my head.