Today, all I really want to do was this:

…and also: give up, quit ballet, go home, open a pint of ice cream and cry while watching some form of trash tv.  But instead, my day looked more like this:

…pointe shoe-shaped bruise admiring, toe nail-smooshing and tutu battling.  Only the crying part remained invariable.

Some days, (usually after a particularly restless night), it’s like I just wasn’t meant for ballet.  Nothing feels right, nothing looks right, I find myself quickly waning in energy and simply unable to do anything about it.  At this point, I usually start to get extremely frustrated over the teeniest details, I realize how small these details are (despite how monumental they seem in that moment), and then wonder why I even care so much.  Why do I get so torn up over having a “bad class” or not being able to land one. lousy. pirouette.?  This, my friends, is a question only answerable by the ballet gods.  All I can do now is relax on the couch with my heating pad and a bowl of cereal, take a deep breath, and prepare for a better day tomorrow.  I’ll leave you with something a bit more uplifting; a photo I snapped of our amazing principals Vilia Putrius and Mindaugas Bauzys during their Agon rehearsal…

Peekaboo!