Chapter Fourteen

Only two weeks left of ballet, and I've only participated in two classes, which is good, because sadly, there isn't a whole lot to make fun of in ballet and I'm struggling to make entries in this blog that are interesting. Ballet, just like modern has been a five week introduction. How, then, in a period of two and a half weeks have I managed to miss so many classes?

Well, first there was Columbus day. I've yet to figure out why we kinda-sorta celebrate Columbus day, but I'm not going to quibble about a day off from school. If there was a holiday for King Louis the fourteenth, and it meant I received a vacation day, you can guarentee I'll be wishing total strangers, "Happy King Louis the fourteenth day!!!!" And I'd put up with my children coming home from school all around that holiday with askewed versions of the history of King Louis the Fourteenth. And as usual, I digress.

At anyrate, at the beginning of the semester, we had labor day vacation, which would have been another "woo-hoo" moment, except my university did something I thought bizarre. We followed a Monday schedule on a Tuesday! Talk about scrambling my poor little already confused brain! With Monday feeling like Sunday, and then Tuesday actually being Monday... need I go on?

I couldn't for the life of me figure out why on earth we were having a MONDAY schedule on a TUESDAY. This didnt make sense, until Columbus day. It was my light bulb moment. That TUESDAY made up for our lack of a MONDAY on Columbus day. AHHHHH I got it now. Obviously, if we didnt have classes on Columbus day, we couldn't possibly have had ballet. That only left last Wednesday's class.

Even though I didn't have classes on Columbus day, I did a very foolish thing. I say foolish because it caused me a week of unbearable, excrutiating back pain from muscles so stiff they could have been a piece of plywood. I went to the studios. I wanted to get a head start on my weaving. I leaned over my loom for over six hours while I dressed it, and when I got home, I did another foolish thing. I sat down. I was tired. It was a logical thing to do. My back seized up and screamed "YOU IDIOT!!!! You're no spring chicken anymore!!!" I still had to go to work that evening, but by Tuesday, I was dying. I could hardly move. I called in sick for my other job hoping that I'd be able to make it to classes on Wednesday. And yes, I was stubborn, I refused to see the doctor. After all, what was she going to do other than prescribe some wonderful relaxants that would make me loopy. Darn, in hindsight, I should have gone to the doctor...hmmmmmmm...

It was a good thing I realized there was no way on earth I was going to be able to participate in ballet. I called the prof and used one of my three precious and highly valued excused absences. I've been hording them for such a time as this. I went to school wearing one of those therapatches, the world's greatest inventions as far as I was concerned. And again, stupidly, leaned over my loom, because I absolutely had to keep making progress. It's October already and I was just now starting a project. Yikes! I really thought I could make it to health which is after dance, but alas, I was beyond wrong. I was just batting a thousand that day. So I found my health prof to excuse myself from her class, scooped up my youngest from the child care center, and limped my way back to my van, whimpering the whole way home in the car. I couldn't wait to lay down.

Today, we walked into the locker room to find a very welcome sign. At least it was welcome for me, because I'm still not quite right in the back. I no longer feel tight, but I still feel twinges of discomfort, also known as pain. We didnt have to change, because according to this sign, we were going to learn the history of ballet. Sadly, I can't even remember one detail.

So, Wednesday will be the first time in a week and a half I've had to don the footless tights. I doubt I will have such luck when we learn lyrical jazz. There is a bittersweet feeling that ballet is almost over. On one hand, it means we are seven weeks away from the end of the semester. On the other hand, it means WE ARE SEVEN WEEKS AWAY FROM THE END OF THE SEMESTER! AAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!! Seven weeks away from my required "choreography"! Seven weeks away from when my opinion paper is due! Seven weeks that will fly by faster than I can think (which isn't saying much).

My tummy hurts.