I’m not a fan of holiday breaks from ballet.
Because I work afternoons and nights, my break from dance began the Saturday before Christmas. Mr. O and Mrs. O are offering classes this week, but I have to work.
So I had Monday circled. It’s the day I return to classes at UAH where I’m working on a second degree (sort of a career survival thing). It was the day I was supposed to plunge back into dance with company class.
After 90 minutes of ballet bliss, I intended to rush home, shower, and watch the big game. I’m an Alabama grad and my school is taking on Notre Dame for the national title. Roll Tide!
But thanks to vacations at work and sports writers going to Miami to cover the game, we’re spread thin at work. Such is life in that dying industry, the newspaper biz.
I’m a former sports writer (who loves to dance, go figure) who is now a page designer. Because of my sports background, I have to help out the sports guys.
Not the Monday I intended.
College all morning and early afternoon. Work all night.
No return to ballet.
I love football. It’s my favorite sport. I love my Crimson Tide.
But my love for ballet a few years ago exceeded my love of football (tightly holding onto my man card before someone tries to take it away).
I need to plie. I need to jete. I need to try to do pirouettes. I need to do tour jetes.
Or I’ll go stir crazy.
Right now, my return is looking more like crashing an open beginning class next Wednesday night. Might be for the best.
It’ll give me a chance to ease back into ballet before Mr. O’s open advanced class next Thursday, or Mrs. O’s company class next Saturday.
But I hate waiting that long. Maybe I can swap Friday holidays with a co-worker so I can take one of those classes Mr. and Mrs. O are team teaching this week.
If not, since you’re making me waiting a couple of more days to end my ballet break, Bama, you’d better beat Notre Dame!