Due to an injury, I had to take a week off of yoga. If you know me, you know how difficult this was for me.

But I was good … and I did it. Today was to be my first day back.

As is my routine, I woke up and went for a quick run. I had a cup of coffee, and then headed to yoga.

I couldn’t wait to get back to it.

Its 5:30 am, and I am outside the yoga studio.

I am putting my cell phone away when it rings … and it shows that it is my dad’s mobile phone.

“Whats wrong???” I pick up.

“You called us.”  He says, very groggily.

“I didn’t call you. Are you ok?”

“Yes, but you must have pocket dialed us and it woke us up.”

“Dad, I am outside of the yoga studio and have my cell phone in my hand.”

“No,” he says. “It was from your house phone.”

“Dad, I am not at home.  And who puts their home phone in their pocket?” (I am much too awake for this conversation.)

“Well your mother picked it up and all she could hear was you walking around and heavy breathing.”

“Can I talk to mom?” At this point, I am thinking she had a nightmare.

Mom gets on the phone. She’s even more groggy … and she still has her mouth guard in her mouth.

“Thomeone ith in your houthe!”

“Mom, if thomeone someone IS in my house, why would they be calling you?”

“I don’t know.  But you need to go home.”

“Mom, if someone is in my house, why do I want to go home?”

I really want to go to yoga.

“I don’t want to go home in the dark. If someone is in my house, he can’t get out without setting the alarm off, in which case the police will come. Go back to sleep, and I will call you when I get home.”

At this point, I was more than a little creeped out … but I was determined.

I really have to focus on my breath in yoga and not think about what was waiting for me when I got home.

I speed home after yoga.

I pass a neighborhood security car and almost stop and ask for an escort.

No flashing lights on my street.

My neighbor is out getting his paper in his boxer shorts, which I take as a good sign. If the police had been there, I think he would be wearing pants.

I pull into my garage.

I hold my alarm fob and acquaint myself with where the panic button is.

I open my garage door and turn to go up the stairs to the first level.

And I see …