This is what happens when you write about yoga. 

1. You will post your “published”—and I use the term loosely—piece to Facebook in a casual sort of, “Hey, check this out if you get a second” kind of way, and pretend that you don’t care if anyone reads it.

2. You will care immensely that people are reading it.

You will be thrilled as you see that it’s updated to Popular Lately.  Maybe this writing thing will work out. I mean you have written a lazy piece on a yoga blog that people can read for free and you have successfully combined it with an odd royalty-free photo of a fashion model in a provocative pose that looks like poor yoga alignment. You really seem to get this “funny” writing thing. Go you!

3. Email it to your friends and family.

After all, many of them aren’t on any form of social media! Send them the link. They’ll love it! I mean most of them are still waiting for you to pass through your yoga phase, but come on—this writing transcends any knowledge about what yoga is. This is funny sh*t!

4. (45 comments.) Oh, wow! Scroll down a little… scroll back up, scroll back up!

God help you when you start to see the comments. Oh the comments! People hate you. It’s all about you. You have pissed them off talking about your experience in the second person. Why do you do that? You should have just kept those thoughts to yourself. You’re not being yogic, right? Right?

5. Continue to notice the comment count…

…but don’t ever dip into the self-loathing pool that would be actually reading the comments because as they say you are shallow and don’t really understand yoga at all. Shit! Do you not understand yoga? Who is the official authority on yoga? Make a mental note to check on that as soon as you see if the number of people who’ve read your piece has gone up!

6. Congratulate yourself as the number grows—you’ve really touched a nerve here!

Maybe you can parlay this into an entire blog? People do that! They write blogs that become book that become movies. You will write a book. A funny book—who knew! You better start clearing time in your schedule to write this book.

7. Hate your piece.

As weeks and months pass and you have not written a funny book or even another funny sentence, your blog post will stand as a digital reminder of how much of a hack you are. A top 10 list—really? That was the best you could do? Your blog writing is the equivalent of an awkward family photo that no one will take down and everyone will continue to tell you in person and in email how much they love your perm. Or worse yet, people you know have read it will say nothing and smile tight-lipped at you when it’s mentioned. Make a mental note of the people who say nothing to you about your writing. I mean, it’s not like they’re busy and didn’t see it.

8. Swear off blog writing—and for that matter, all writing—forever.

Decide that it’s beneath you. You can throw yourself into something else. Meditation? Nope. How about baking? You can bake things that are vegan and gluten-free and sugar-free (because now sugar is also toxic), and you will surprise everyone with your sensitivity. You used to make fun of it. Now you dehydrate lumps of dried fruits and nuts into gifted “cookies.” (Continue to bake full-fat, full-sugar goods for yourself. You are gifting others these thoughtful cookies but you can’t be expected to eat them yourself.)

9. Get to your f*cking yoga mat.

Face it. Thanks to your new hobby, you are now eating like an American with a Walmart Gold card. If you don’t get to yoga (soon and often!), you’ll have to pretend to enjoy running again. Swear to start a less physical practice after summer is over.

10. Dip a cautious toe back into writing something again that you actually let another person read.

What’s the worst that can happen?