Fridays are special days in the Erwin household. Rick and I usually get up early (well, I get up early, Rick gets up at his normal time) and go to breakfast together, which makes for a nice start to the day. My mom and I talk almost every morning and she says that I always sound more upbeat on Fridays. For those of you that have ever had a phone conversation with me, "more upbeat" is a relative term, since I usually sound borderline comatose on the phone. Fridays always seem to be filled to the brim with excitement for the potential fun in the impending weekend.
There has recently been an exciting addition to my Fridays, which I haven't shared with many people, so I am outing myself here. Dance class. That's right. I take a dance class at my gym every friday at 4. I have actually missed the past few weeks, which means I will be behind for this month's dance, but no matter. Few of you may know that behind this calm, laid-back, nonchalant exterior lies a serious booty shaker. I took dance classes in middle school (and possibly into high school, can't recall) and was a cheerleader in high school, which required some dancing from time to time. The cheerleading part is the tidbit that amuses anyone that knows me now and still strikes me as odd since I find it hard to get my level of excitement over about a 4 on a scale of 1 to 10. I also have been known to pump up the jams while cleaning the house and shake my way around while dusting and sweeping. It really is quite a sight. And don't get Rick started about me at weddings. Dancing is mandatory and it gives Rick endless ammunition in what is always the "photo review of shame and ridicule" the next day.
So my alter ego loves to dance. And in this dance class I am one of the star pupils. Granted, the rest of the class is a bunch of arthritic 80 year olds, but I am a star none the less.
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