it's the end of the world as we know it, and i just danced in my kitchen in my rolled up sweatpants and my dance-style socks, with the best cup of tea i've made in days, and i feel fine.
life is beautiful.
now if only my friends were here to dance silly-style with me...
Still no postcardage from the untrustworthy Canada Post. I besmirch thy name you unreliable people you. But it's ok, mailage is coming. No dreams of it yet.
Back to dancing alone. Should probably not stomp and jump around as much as I am (not out of breath either - amazing!)for fear I may tear myself open and/or lose a boob since i can't really feel them.
What would my dance teacher say?
Probably something along the lines of, "well as long as you're wearing a good supportive sports bra....and we're dancers; not elephants!"