Satan said dance

My life is dance. The waltz, to be specific (that all changes Monday, when it becomes swing).
I mean it.
I dance every single day.
I'm going to dance practice all weekend.
Fear is a supreme motivational tool.
"Remember, it's for charity," we all say.
Because we all suck in one way or another.

I had a shit day on Friday. Just a lot of outside influences that I have no control over. The one place I didn't want to be was at dance practice, wearing my uncomfortable tuxedo shoes and stumbling through the waltz.
By the time we were done - after two hours of dancing where we picked out our music (Santa Lucia, by Mr.s Tony Bennett) - I felt great. Well, better.
Better, because I moved around.

My problem is, I hate to do anything half-assed. And even though the mantra is "it's for charity," I still want to do well. No, I want to win.
So I soldier on.
In fact, I have to get my butt in gear.
And go practice some more.


Anonymous said...

Don't forget about the potential dance-related benefits of a little recreational mind expansion. Just drop a little acid and rotate those crops man... everything will be fine. =]