…from another dance class.  This time contemporary jazz.  I love how freeing this form of dance is, compared to the usually rigid confines of classical ballet.  But I’ve only been out of class for 3 hours and I’m sore.  Really sore.  Like, back is cramping up and I’m shuffling about the house as-if-I-were-85 sore.

Joe’s already passed out, else I would have him squeeze an entire bottle of Icy-Hot all over my tired little body.  He’d complain about helping me rub it all in, and I can’t say I blame him.  ‘Cause then, we’d both be kept awake by that awful smell, rather than my groans from those shooting pains every time I roll over.

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