I wasn't feeling very zen at all.
I thought I'd join an old group of friends for a three-day yoga retreat in the woods. I thought it'd be fun. Their meditations are kooky, and they can't stop complaining about their stupid husbands. It's no wonder I'd all but stopped talking to them after they got married. I loved my friends in high school, but now… they were lame as all fuck.
By the second day, I was more than ready to go home, feeling tenser even in lotus position than I ever thought possible. I took long swigs from my water bottle, as though it'd make the time go by faster. It didn't.
After our late morning stretch, we spread out a picnic for an early lunch. I was tired of the vegetarian spreads and forced small talk and canned laughter. I dipped out of there as soon as Miranda brought out those cone-shaped corn chips – those bitches don't notice a thing when they're putting those stinky little corn chips on their fingertips, pretending to be pointy-nailed witches.