Yoga-cat-es

I've started doing Yogilates DVDs on the privacy of my home, with all the curtains drawn. I wouldn't want to traumatize the children in the neighborhood. The leader of these videos is an Australian lady with waist-long braids, a chirpy voice, and the unblinking stare of a cult member. She, unlike me, is not burdened with an ounce of body fat, bones, tendons, a working relationship with gravity, or good sense. "Now, remaining balanced on the point of your elbow, put one foot on the ceiling and the other flat on the ground in front of you. And don't forget to connect your navel to the base of your spine!" I couldn't connect my navel to the base of my spine with a stapler. She's obviously insane, but I keep trying to follow her instructions as if she's talking sense.

What I'm getting at, if you haven't guessed, is that all by myself, I am the least graceful person ever to attempt these exercises. Unfortunately, I am not alone in my attempts. The cats, fearing for my safety, intervene constantly in my routine. I think what upsets them is the fact that part of the video involves lying on the ground. This enrages Luisa, who sees an opportunity to attack my head, grab onto my hair, stick her paws in my ears, and generally disrupt the calming grooviness this workout is meant to inspire. I suppose the only other times I'm ever lying on the floor are more or less involuntary, and involve end-stage drunkenness, so I wouldn't be aware of the feline assault.

Loki remains mostly neutral while all this is going on. Every so often he lifts his head from the couch and tells Luisa to relax - that I'll be lying on the couch smoking in a matter of moments. He is more dignified in general, and focuses his sabotage by doing things like lying down behind me on the yoga mat so I step on his tail, then acting as though I am trying to kill him, instead of the other way around. Don't these people know that if they cripple me, I won't be able to make money to support their lifestyle?