On Monday evening, we had to go pick up some wheelchair parts that a friend of Denis’ wanted to re-home, so I did Margie’s 6:15 class, which is only an hour.

Given that I had just missed an entire week of class, I felt like it went pretty well (though my attitude was a mess – I guess maybe I need an attitude adjustment?). 

At the end, we did some simple choreography –  just tombé, pas de bourée, glissade, assemblé.   At one point I glanced up, caught sight of myself in the mirror, and though, “Holy cow, I look like I’m dancing!”

It actually looked somewhat better than this. Then, in real life, I am not a stick man.

And then, of course, I immediately forgot how to glissade-assemble, and basically fell apart.

I also looked worse than this, so it all balancés out? (See what I — okay, yeah, you’re right. That was bad. Sorry.)

But, hey, progress is progress, and we’ve covered the lesson about thinking already, right?

So I’ll take it.

This week,  I’m easing back into ballet.   Things are still a little shaky in here. I think I am going to forego Wednesday class and get back to the beginning/intermediate section on Saturday.  Then it’s dinner and Giant Dinosaur Puppets Live!, about which my inner 9-year-old is nerdily stoked.

Sunday I’ll be attempting a century ride for the halibut with some of my crazy bike peeps, because why not?

If I survive, I’ll keep you posted 😉