If I’m being completely honest with myself, which I have been trying to do as of late, I’d have to say that I am one of those people without mouth-filters about 90% of the time.

In most social situations, I am a-okay…I have been mold enough by society and The South to smile and say yes ma’am.

But when I feel an injustice has been done, there is only so much “have a blessed day” I can say through gritted teeth before my head becomes dangerously close to exploding.

And when someone confronts me after I’ve calmly told them that I am too angry to have a rational conversation, it is game over. Then I begin to say words that would horrify my mama.

So tonight, when the roommate from hell began to provoke me with empty threats as I made my way from the front door up the stairs to my bedroom, I wanted to turn around and give her the verbal lashing that I typically would.

But, you know, I am a slowly budding yogini with epic-ly tight calves and hamstrings and a serious fear of all things hand/headstand so I have managed to listen to the instructor’s wisdom through gritted teeth and sweat beads.

My latest learning: Sometimes it’s better to just breathe and stop yourself from sending excess hostility out into the world.

So, as much as I would have liked to told her where to shove it, I oxygenated my brain with the deepest breath I could muster, stood tall, and made it to my bedroom without going all Yolanda on her ass.

Yoga – 1, roommate from hell – 0.

 

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