M is for Music

In a stressed-out world, one of the best things I can do for myself is to relax and de-stress by either singing music or dancing to it. Once a week I go off and sing with my chorus of 130 people. During those two hours, I don’t think about world news, White House news, weather or climate change news.  Then I go home and turn on the news.

On the weekends (or sometimes Thursday nights) I find a dancing venue and take my size 8 men’s wingtips (they slide) with me.   Once I’ve had a glass of wine, I am ready to get out on the dance floor and boogie. I don’t need a partner, but if one of my girlfriends wants to dance, all the better. Women don’t mind dancing together or sleeping in the same bed. Men won’t do either. It’s a guy thing.

In the winter when the dancing venues are few and far between, I supplement my dancing opportunities by attending Zumba or aerobics classes

Yes, I should be in the strength training class instead, but I don’t come out of it feeling as happy.

So imagine my horror when I discovered today that I have an infected toe. I thought my sock was on too tight, but when I took off my shoes, my toe was red and puffy. How the heck? The weekend is coming, and I want to dance! I might have to see a doctor tomorrow to get antibiotics.

Tomorrow is Friday. I hope I can get an appointment and can get my toe fixed in time to dance on Saturday. If it hurts to dance, I’ll have to drink two glasses of wine.

This week has had its share of stress. The contractor messed up with the granite guys, so that installation got pushed back. My sister’s new nurse is pressuring us into finding Sis a better board and care home. I told her today we are not doing that.  She’s known us for three weeks. How dare she suggest a total upheaval of my sister’s life because she thinks our board and care home isn’t good enough. So what if the wife gets a little grumpy and the husband has to smooth things over with her from time to time? Sis has a beautiful room and a private bathroom (which is good since all the others are men). We are paying the max amount that we can, and a move would surely cost us more money each month, not to mention Sis would have to get used to new caregivers and house mates.

Oh, to be a young and clueless nurse trying to save the world.

I am singing at a memorial tomorrow night for a singing friend who lost her battle with cancer. Most of the chorus is going to be there for her family. That’s another reminder for us.

We need to dance while we can.

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