Made sure to get to bed early last night... woke up at 3 with low blood sugar and had an awful time getting back to sleep. My hand hurt so bad- I figured I had been sleeping on it funny, but no matter what I did, it still hurt. I think it was about 4 before I fell asleep again. I was driving to work before I figured out why it hurt: it's supposed to rain today! Wonderful! It's a good thing I don't live in the Northwest, huh?
I went to Zumba last night. That's twice! I did better this time, but still felt like an idiot. I'm going to google how to shake my ass and how to salsa and other things I cannot seem to learn on the spot. And I am going to have to practice some of these embarrassing moves at home because whenever we have to doing anything involving the hips, I move my whole torso. It makes me think of the Cake song that Tracy is already singing:
When she walks, she swings her arms
Instead of her hips
When she talks, she moves her mouth
Instead of her lips
All the more reason to keep going to Zumba. Besides, it's fun to get into it for those thirty seconds I find the groove. Some of the people around me are not equally lost, but not entirely with it. That sucks because sometimes I can't see the teacher. Last night I spotted a girl that very seriously knows what's going on and she's having so much fun that she looks like a pony, trotting around all happy and energetic. Perhaps I should go stand near her so if I can't see the teacher, I'll have someone to emulate... and maybe her enthusiasm will rub off on me.
I am very excited to have nothing to do and nowhere to go tonight so I can get some chores done. This is sick and sad, but I am still very excited. I feel like I just can't catch up and I've got shit to do this weekend- I don't want to spend it cleaning. (What will actually happen tonight: a few speedy attempts to clean with the timer on, an early dinner, perhaps a Cesar episode that will turn into three, and then I will wonder why I'm getting to bed late and didn't get anything done.)
No comments:
Post a Comment