I love ballet (hence the title of this blog). There are times when I’ve gone to a morning class without hardly any sleep after a long night at work. Up until this year, I’ve hardly ever missed any class unless I have the crud or seriously hurt (which fortunately hasn’t been often despite my age).
Over the next few days, I will transition from copy editor-college student to company dancer-college student. Starting tomorrow, we’ll be rehearsing every day except Monday for our three spring performances next weekend. I still have an evening ballet class on Monday, so had I made it to this morning’s open class, I would be looking at nine-straight days of ballet (classes, rehearsals, warmups, performances).
That’s absolute heaven for me except …
This morning, I woke up fatigued from getting off work at midnight (on the day I have both five hours of college classes and eight hours of work). It’s honors day at the university, so there were no classes today, and I don’t have to be at work until 3.
As much as I love ballet, my body just wouldn’t move out of bed this morning. I figured I needed to recharge the batteries for what looks like a physically challenging, but emotionally rewarding stretch of days ahead. I’m off tomorrow. Class isn’t until 5, followed by rehearsal.
I felt it was a good idea to rest up.
Maybe it’s because of my more daunting schedule. Maybe it’s because my body is telling me I’m getting old (something I won’t readily admit).
But I figured my love affair with ballet and my eternal struggle to refine and multiply my pirouettes could wait just another day.