Don’t you hate those evenings where you know there’s a fun milonga going on somewhere, and some part of you is dying to be there, but the rest of you is so exhausted that you can’t go?
I moved this weekend. It drained all my energy. I missed the workshops, skipped two milongas … I sat on my bed, staring at my shoe rack and wood floor and wishing that I had enough energy to get up and go out – or even to get up and practice! I can’t complain, though. I now have a (slightly uneven but acceptable) place to practice in my own bedroom, which is a much bigger bedroom than my last one. That’s worth sacrificing one dancing weekend.
As soon as I get my old place clean and turn in the keys I am hitting the gym (a sorely neglected practice during my move). Then hunting down the new pair of shoes that I think just arrived at another tanguera’s house this morning (from a group order we made). And hopefully getting in some kind of dancing before the weekend. This move has simultaneously exhausted and refreshed me!