With all the craziness going down recently – doppelgängers and breaches and Earth-2, oh my! - it’s no wonder my chakras have been all outta whack. I’ve been having trouble sleeping, my back spazzes every time I blink, and (keep it on DL) I’ve been suffering through some epic indigestion.

So, I cross-referenced some Yelp reviews with some Groupon deals and crawled my way over to the Gordian Knot, a three-out-of-five-stars yoga studio situated above a rundown Southern BBQ joint. I was all set to clear my mind, refocus my energy, and rejuvenate my soul – at least, that’s what the sign on the back alley door promised.

The place itself was cramped and stuffy, but it smelled like heaven. Wafts of smoked meat and fried chicken kept drifting in, totally wiping out that Patchouli incense burning in the corner. I was drooling before I’d even kicked off my shoes!

I made sure to bring my own yoga mat – CCPN did a freaky exposé a few weeks ago on a nasty brain-eating fungi that festers in those communal sweat sponges and there was no way I was risking that. Mama didn’t raise no fool!

Things started off pretty well. Child’s Pose? More like “child’s play,” amiright? Cobra, Frog, and Dolphin Pose? Just call me Vixen, baby! I could just feel my chakras realigning. Between the Enya on repeat, the flickering candles in the windows, and the contact high I was getting from the incense, I was in the zone. That is, until I opened my eyes mid-headstand and saw the last person I expected to see.

You remember Shawna, AKA Peek-a-Boo, the teleporting truant who broke my heart? There she was – looking like a goddess in her curve-hugging Lululemon, holding the most perfect One-Handed Tree Pose I’d ever seen. What was she doing here? Did she dump her dirtbag boyfriend? One can hope, right? I was so surprised that I completely lost my balance and toppled over, taking down the entire row with me. I dislocated my shoulder and by the time I popped it back in, Peek-a-Boo was gone. Any chance she didn’t see that wipeout?

I haven’t seen her since that afternoon, but I’m checking my six every time I walk down the street, hoping she’ll teleport back into my life. Maybe mama did raise a fool – a fool for love!

Namaste, playas.