I took my boards this past weekend, and while I have absolutely no idea how that whole thing will turn out "pass-wise," it feels great to have that weight off of my shoulders. The fact that I was at school, hunched over a desk, trying my darndest to remember obscure trivia about the human body for 10 hours may or may not have left me dazed, sore, and unable to feel my right index finger. For the life of me, I can't figure out what day it's supposed to be. It's amazing how the complete loss of a weekend can screw with your brain. It's been a time-warp kinda week.
In other news, we had a midterm exam on Wednesday. Yes, you read that correctly. The week after boards my jerk-face professor gave us a midterm. And just so you know, "jerk-face" is the very nicest name that I heard him called at school on Wednesday morning.
NEVERTHELESS, this too did pass. (No word yet on if I passed the midterm, but you catch my drift)
To continue the random nature of this post, I am taking an exercise class. And this is not just any exercise class. It's ZUMBA.
Those of you who know what Zumba is are already laughing, for the mental image of yours truly participating in said activity is certainly hilarious, if not slightly disturbing. I assure you, I am just as awkward and uncoordinated as you imagine.
For those of you who do not know what Zumba is, let me try to help you picture this phenomenon. Think of the most painfully clumsy contestant on Dancing With The Stars (over age 40), dress her in yoga pants and a baggy t-shirt, throw on some Ricky Martin and try to teach her how to dance like J-Lo. That's Zumba, folks.
The truly funny part about this situation is that I didn't think it would be difficult. Honestly, I was expecting to waltz in there, one of the youngest, hippest kids at the park district, and shake my groove thing like a pro. FALSEHOOD, my friends. UTTER LIES. The moment the music started, it was as if the upper and lower halves of my body decided to sever all connections and go off in their own directions. I could barely follow the steps, much less coordinate my shoulders and arms with the instructor. I have a great sense of rhythm, really, I do. But this took every ounce of focus I possess just to make sure I wasn't going to elbow my neighbor in the face with my flailing and stumbling. All that, plus I was out of breath, sweating, and trying not to laugh out loud with my friends at the ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS picture we made.
Samba? Reggeton? Cha-Cha? I can barely polka. Who was I kidding?
Our fabulous instructor assures us that we'll get better, that it's just about having fun and getting exercise, but I'm not going to quit my day job. All you dancers out there, brava. I hope you get the credit you're due, because this little girl sends you props upon props.
"The most wasted of all days is one without laughter" ~ e e cummings
You write so well, that I feel inferior just writing this sentence!
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