Last night I took my first level III class! Woo! There were a couple of things I tanked on, but it was SO nice to do some different stuff. Everyone was complimentary in such a way that I figure they were pegging my absence on nerves, rather than my stupid work schedule. But no! I would have been there months ago if I had had the chance! But, I had to earn money! To pay for class! It just works out that way, sometimes.
Before class I got to observe the children's level II class, I have never actually seen a kid's class at this studio before. There were only three girls, which seems amazing because our adult level II classes are running 12-14 right now. At the end of class my teacher talked to the girls about pointework, and getting themselves ready for it. HEY! I am in level three! And I already have a theraband! Let's get to the talking, woman!
I actually only decided to go to class about ten minutes before I had to leave. I had a bit of a tummy woggle all day and felt terribly dizzy most of the evening. I accomplished precisely nothing all day (finishing off the first season of Downton Abbey does not count as an accomplishment, more's the pity) But, I couldn't miss my first level III class! So I went, and managed to not fall over (my balances at the barre were even pretty good, I would say) but the trip home was dreadful and I thought I was going to lose it when I got home. I had Indian for lunch, though, and I would be darned if I was going to throw it up. I wouldn't have been able to eat Indian again for at least a year, and that is not acceptable.
In light of the robbery on my last train ride I have started leaving everything of value that I usually carry at home while on my way to class. I don't even bring my license or ipod, just my dance clothes and a bus pass. It makes for a boring trip, but I would rather be safe than sorry. Now, if someone steals my dance bag and makes off with my perfectly broken in Grishko slippers I will probably be pretty incensed.