After a few days without bloggage (oh-er - sounds a bit like a nasty bowel issue), my arms are finally back in a state where I am able to brush my teeth, eat something and type. My neck's still giving me jip, but I am slowly recovering from wii-related injury. Though my ball class this evening was not so fun.
I found myself surrepticiously resting my weights on my legs/shoulders/stomach/anywhere that would have them as soon as the doo-lally teacher's head was turned. However luckily she was rather helpful during a few of the exercises with her unusual counting techniques. "Okay, girls, we're going to do sixteen of these. Sixteen... fifteen...fourteen... thirteen... twelve... ten... nine". At which point I am peering around the room at everyone else, trying to supress a giggle - but either no one else has noticed, or I'm the only one childish enough to find it funny. What's wrong with these people?
But this was my last ball class, certainly for some time. Maybe EVER. So I do feel a little like maybe she did it for me. Maybe that display of her unique counting technique was specifically for me - as a little reminder of just what I'll be missing out on. And in honesty, I feel a little saddened.
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