Another Night

It's late when I get back home. My body is still sticky with sweat, my breath reminiscent of rum and coke, my shoulder just beginning to ache. I keep thinking that if I could somehow just go back and redo, just jump in my time machine and slip back to 1995, I could use what I know to create a whole different ending for this story. But that's just nostalgic whining, right?

Things have changed for me in this dance world. So many opportunities missed that I can't count them. Anyway that's not what I want to write about anyway. All of my recent dance experiences have had the same tone. I feel like there should be more. I should have more students to teach. I should have more comradeship with other teachers. I should be able to connect better with the network of dancers that my world provides. But I can't figure it out. Yet.