The Bruise to End All Bruises

So here is why I am only taking barre this week:

My cat stepped on my laptop, which was precariously balanced on the side table, and the rest is history. It's not broken or anything, it just hurts a might and looks like the end of the world. I probably would have made it through the entire class tonight IF I hadn't had to stand up in the train all the way to class. Urgh. As soon as the time changes everyone and their mama wants to ride the train for some reason. I'm hoping to get through it on Thursday, though I am guessing pointe is probably a bad idea.
So, while my classmates got on with center work I got to sit and observe them. It's interesting, actually, to watch a class you usually participate in. For one thing you get to admire how pretty it is (well, except grands jetes, but you get to see how badly everyone else does them so you don't feel so bad) when normally it just feels like a hot mess. And you get to wonder at how easy it all looks when you know that in reality it's damn hard work. And you know when you hit the wall? I mean figuratively speaking. And you think "oh god, just make it stop" because you are exhausted, dripping sweat, panting for breath, and just DONE? Well, the one time I get a chance to actually quit after barre and sit out all the hard stuff all I want is to be up there dancing.
What the hell, ballet makes you a crazy person.