Waltz Wonders

I will be the first to admit that I am extremely stubborn. I have accepted it and so should you. Despite my . . . we'll call it a handicap, I feel that I have handled criticism in dance extremely well. You see, one cannot dance well without criticism, and unfortunately, much of that criticism comes from one's own teammates. Even the ones who are not on your same level of dance. I have accepted that and dealt with it as well.
This morning I dropped out of bed and dragged myself to campus. Lately, it's been a freezing, almost unconscious, 15-20 minute walk. I'm amazed I haven't missed a day of class yet. I'm proud of myself actually. In the mornings I have no personality. I typically don't say a word to anyone until about 10:30, because if I did, I probably would end up making somebody cry. I'm not a morning person, so sue me. Starting the day off by dancing, however, does help. Even ballroom.
It was girls choice today. The professor stood off to the side as the girls took shy steps towards their chosen boy. Fabulous. The one guy who I actually enjoyed dancing with because he sort of knew what he was doing, and therefore hadn't trampled my toes with his clown feet got snatched by a girl who looked more like a barbie. Even better. I looked around at the few left over boys. I took the one closest to me.
He had curly brown hair and a spare tire. He was shorter than me. I tried to be optimistic, I really, truly did. However, all attempts at a positive attitude were shot down when he instantly correct my stance. Correction: he incorrectly corrected my stance and would not continue dancing with me until I had fixed it. I held my tongue and did as he asked. I knew there was no arguing with him if I didn't comply. And what happened? He stepped on my feet . . . several times. And forgot the routine.
Oh, I cannot wait to be a dance teacher . . .