Last night my yoga teacher asked me if I had ever been a dancer. "Well," I said, "I took ballet in second grade." (I realized later this wasn't strictly the entire story - I also took a couple of years of ballet at an adults-only studio in Seattle. The experience, while enjoyable, failed to convince me that I had missed out on my life's calling.) While many adjectives have been applied to me in my life - some even positive - graceful has never been one of them. Maybe it was my Danskin sweater.
Otherwise, yesterday was worky-worky-busy-bee. Today promises more of the same.