Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating with the title, but just a little. I'm exhausted. I think it's probably a combination of the busyness of the holidays that have just ended - I ate a lot more sweets than I normally do, went to parties that disrupted my schedule, spent an entire weekend in the kitchen baking cookies - the fact that it's been snowy and therefore the days have been dark, and a touch of Seasonal Affective Disorder.
Whatever the reason, I'm pooped. To the point where I am having recurring dreams about being unable to move - as if my limbs are made out of lead and I can't lift them to walk. I'm trying to get somewhere, trying to accomplish something, and I'm frozen in place.
I'd think there was something deeply psychologically disturbed about the dreams (and indeed, I have a big change I know I need to make that I have been putting off for - oh, a couple of years now), except in my waking life I feel almost that heavy and sluggish.
This is probably not a good time to start ballet lessons. I mean, you want to feel light and airy going into it, right? But let me tell you a little about me: I rarely let a bad idea stop me. Ballet lessons start Monday night.
I danced for twelve years as a child and an adult. I pray that there is some muscle memory left in these old joints and tendons. I'm also hoping that the years I've put into a daily yoga practice will help me. I fear that I will be like one of the elephants in Fantasia - in heaviness on my feet, if not in shape. And I know I will be sore.
But I sort of feel that in the dark days of winter, it'll be nice to do something different - to walk into a warm, brightly lit studio and get in touch with the little girl within who loved loved loved ballet.
Besides, it's an excuse to buy one of those little chiffon dance skirts. I've always wanted one.