untitled

so...
ballet results are out. And I don't know mine.
Most are happy.
I don't know about me.
I feel robbed of a chance to do my best. Deprived.
Maybe that's just an excuse.
I can't say I did my best, I really can't. Coz' I really didn't. Not even to the full extent that my ankle allowed me to. All I could think of was the aftermath. The sweet relaxation.

It's not gonna happen now. The perfectionist in me wouldn't allow it.
I'm short, a left hander, a perfectionist and blahs. Studies has shown such people live a shorter life. My life is gonna be real short then since I'm ALL of them. Tough luck (?)

So I really want to give it my all this time for Review. I don't know why I'm making such a big thing out of it. But there's this urgency to prove myself, to make things right, to go back to the straight path I was meant to take (?). I need this to be a good beginning. I don't want to blank out, zone out, stare at the paper and die.

I don't want to screw the whole semester.
Sometimes I really wonder what's the use of all these since I'm just gonna disintergrate into dust and go to heaven.
But then I know it.

Worrywart.

On a happier note, lovely playground days with smiles and sharing. Kungfu panda-ing hanging on monkey bars. Blisters that don't hurt as they should. Giant mug. KOREA?!??

nope, don't think so. Not likely.
Results of MRI scan out next wk. Don't really know what I'm hoping for.

I just want to do whatever it takes to dance again and to really do my best next year grade 7 (if?)

question marks are current occurences.

I have resolved to improve my handwriting. They look like " mating anacondas". And sometimes I really think I'm looking at the Thai language. Relief for table partners.