Conversation with my body at 7 o'clock this morning:
Me: (getting out of bed)
Body: WTF? No.
Me: Come on now. We have to get up. Remember our deal?
Me: Now, now. The deal was, we got to rest yesterday, but today we have two rehearsals and a Baby Ballet class to teach. Time's a-wastin'.
Body: NO NO NO.
Me: Come on, we have to put our pointe shoes on.
Body: NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO- (continues protesting)
Me: (ignoring complaints, makes coffee)
Body: NO NO NO NO NO NO--
Me: (takes medicine, drinks coffee, smokes cigarette)
Me: Are you done resisting me now?
Body: FINE. You win.
Me. Good. Let's go.
Apparently my body is still tired and not happy about rebounding. The first, maybe, half hour of rehearsal went well, after that it went steadily downhill. I found myself thankful that today's rehearsal was short, because after an hour my legs didn't want to cooperate with me. The choreography was not difficult, but since I wasn't firing all cylinders it felt like I trying to dance while underwater...during an earthquake. NOT my best moment.
I don't like dancing when my body is compromised, because I tend to feel more inadequate than the Chess Club kid who got tossed onto the football field. I came home after rehearsal, sat down on the couch, and thought to myself "Wow, I'm a really crappy dancer." Whether or not that's true is the subject of much debate, but I digress-- after a rehearsal like today's, there doesn't seem to be an argument against it.
I'm about to go teach my one-and-only baby class of the week before Rehearsal Round Deux, which will hopefully be far less embarassing. Wish me luck.