How to Wreck a Thursday:

Step 1. Wake up freezing your buns off; discover it is not only cold outside but raining to boot.
Step 2. Engage in a wrestling match with your hair. Lose. Concede to looking like Frizzy McAfrostein for the day.
Step 3. Have an anxiety attack because all of the stuff you have to get done by, um, yesterday. Better yet, have two.
Step 4. Read over the two posts you wrote last night and decide they are embarrassingly bad. Delete both.
Step 5. Go to rehearsal, where your usual partner in crime is absent (along with another girl who you've been understudying). Scramble to fill -both- girls' roles in different ballets. Do absolutely nothing right. Feel like a moron.
Step 6. Feel like an even bigger moron because you're so frustrated you are about to cry. Fight tears by digging your fingernails into your arm.
Step 7. Get stuck in unbelievable traffic on the way to your next rehearsal. Curse your existence.

How to Repair a Thursday:
Step 1. Arrive at your second rehearsal. Spend ninety minutes in the presence of wonderful people.
Step 2. Witness your piece start to come together; your dancers focusing and working hard and getting things done.
Step 3. Show what you have so far to others, who smile and tell you they like it.
Step 4. Leave rehearsal with a big dumb grin on your face. Mission accomplished.