Zumba: The Universe Made Me Do It

I’ve been trying to figure out what I’m doing with this blog. Lately, I haven’t really felt like getting outside my routine. And when I do, I’m getting outside my routine by spending my lunch hour trying to call Paul Ryan’s office…and getting a busy signal 12 times. So today I said something along the lines of “I think I’m done with my blog. How can I write about fun/silly things when the world is what it is right now.” And my sister said, “That’s why you should do it. Because it’s still okay to have fun.” Right. Donald Trump can’t steal my joy! (I realize that I’m saying this from a place of extreme privilege. I’m about as close as you can get to a straight white male without actually being one. I fully acknowledge that. But I still think we all can benefit from finding joy where we can get it!) I mean, my Driven/Type A/Approval Junkie/Worry Wart personality already tries to steal my joy all the time. I have to fight back! That was why I started this blog in the first place. Because I was in a really dark place a year ago. Like a “cry myself to sleep, why do I feel like crap even though everything is really fine” place. (Yeah, that first blog post was an edited version of why I really started “routine maintenance.”) And this blog fixed it. As I reflected on 2016 in December, I was like “Damn. I had a great year!” And you know who made it happen? ME!

I borrowed this from the internet. I can’t find the original source. If you know where the original source is, let me know! 

So yeah, it is okay to keep writing this blog. For me. And if you get a little joy out of it, great! Or if you want to ignore it because there are much bigger things to worry about and read about, that’s great, too! But today, I decided I would start blogging again. And the universe gave me a little push to make sure I did it. How? Well, I signed up for a workout class I have recently become obsessed with called Pound. They give you drumsticks and the whole class feels like a party:


But when I arrived at the class, the instructor said: “I’m a sub tonight and instead of teaching Pound, we’re going to do Zumba.” And I was like:


Because I absolutely have the butt for Zumba, but the rest of my body is more of a waspy “Is this twerking?! Can we just stand here and clutch our pearls?” I have no rhythm. Even just taking Pound is a stretch for me. And I’ve tried Zumba before and when I walked out of the class, I turned to my best friend and said “I don’t ever need to do that again.” But the universe had other ideas. It was all: “I am about to shove you out of your comfort zone and back into blogging! Enjoy the routine maintenance!” It went a little bit like this:


And while the girls in front of me (who definitely had dance training) were doing this:


I did this:


Just kidding. That dog is awesome! I was more like this:


No. She’s good, too. I don’t even know what I looked like. But it was not at all correct.

But you know what? It was a great workout! And who cares if I looked ridiculous? I laughed, I got sweaty, and I forgot about the problems of the world for a half hour…because I was too busy thinking “do my hips even have the ability to move like that?!”



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