Emma is sick again

You all are not going to believe this...I'm sick again.  I'm beginning to think that the Met Theater is cursed or something.  It seems like every time that I spend any amount of time at the Met, I am sick or injured in some way.  It doesn't have to be after, but it always coincides with me participating in some performance or event at the Met.

At the last performance, I was very sick through the whole thing.  Heck, half of the cast was sick or injured in some way.  I'm pretty sure that no one in the audience knew.  We were just that good...I hope.

This time, I helped at the Year End Festival of Dance.  We don't do recitals, but each class has a chance to perform a little number.  I'm not sure why it's not called a recital, because I thought recitals were when a class performed a number.  Confusing, I think.

Either way, I made it through two nights of this.  I watched some children I've taught since they were three receive their dance belts, which means they are no longer in what is considered baby ballet - when they return in the fall, they will be in regular ballet classes.  I have to admit I teared up a little, watching the little ceremony.  They were mine for three years and now they're off to more difficult classes.  Fly, baby birds!

I went to my ballet class Saturday morning at 9:00 AM.  Mind you, this was after being at the theater until 10:00 PM the night before, and I didn't reach home until about 10:30 PM.  Saturday morning ballet is especially difficult if you're out late the night before.  You sort of stand at the barre like this:

Sleepy kitty, or sleepy dancer?  You decide.

 Even my teacher kept asking why we were having class that early the day after the event.  I could only shrug, but you could tell that neither of us were all there that morning.  I didn't wake up until after barre, which is usually a full hour into class.  That never happens.  I'm usually ready to go at ten minutes into class.

After dance class, I came home, showered, ate something, and then decided to take a nap like a sensible person, since I was so tired.

I woke up sick.  Is there anything more disappointing than going to sleep thinking that you're going to feel awesome and ready to take on the world after a nap and then waking up feeling like you were hit by a truck?

Because that's how I felt.

I actually ended up back in bed before long, clutching tissues and apple juice as though they were the answer to life, the universe, and everything.  My Kindle came in handy as I played audio books to entertain me and I drifted off to sleep several times listening to Matilda or Jane Eyre.

I am still sick, and look a little like this:

Time for more apple juice.