I stepped into the chilly bonus room and walked over to the mirror. With new motivation to practice, I drilled my treble jig over and over again. I am so close to being able to move up to preliminary championship, the only thing holding me back is my treble jig. As a matter of fact, I’ve been struggling with this specific step for countless months now. After not placing in it three competitions in a row, I’ve developed a deep loathing of this step. Now that the treble jig is the only thing holding me back though, I have to really buckle down and perfect it. As I drilled a specific bit of the step over and over, a wave of disappointment washed over me  I realized that I never wrote my slice yesterday. In all of my nerves from Saturday’s competition, I had completely forgotten about writing.

The judge gave a swift nod in my direction and I promptly stepped forwards alongside my competition. We both took position and waited. A split second later the music began and I plastered a smile on my face and started to dance. I focused hard through the beginning of the step, tightening my body and willing myself not to stumble like I so often do in practice. After successfully completing the spin without any problems, I grinned even harder and pushed through the rest of the step. I paid no mind to my competition as she crossed the stage completing her own step. We dodged each other as we briefly crossed paths. As I danced, I tried to remember everything my teacher had told me; stay on my toes, turnout, high kicks. After what seemed like only a matter of seconds, I reached the end of my step. I completed the last kick, pointed, bowed, and returned to my place in line.

I grinned as I watched all of my dance friends arrive one by one. These kind of nights are by far my favorite. Spending an hour with some of my closest friends, doing what we love and creating memories while we do it. We laughed and smiled as we ran through every dance. In between dances, we gasped for breath, still laughing away and calling each other the nicknames we created the night before. The night flew by all too fast and soon we were packing our bags to head home for the night. With aching legs we parted our separate ways.

After such a chaotic month, I could think of no better way to end the month than having a relaxing movie night with my grandma and grandpa. As soon as the fish fry ended, my grandparents brought me back to their house to watch Les Miserables. We curled up on the couch with two bags of kettle corn and hit play. By the end of the movie, I was filled with immense sadness. Though the title should have given away that the movie would be sad, I never realized just how sad it would really be.  Sitting cozy on my grandparent’s couch with a belly full of popcorn was the perfect way to end this chaotic month of March.

I looked at the sad, wilted plant in despair. After forgetting about the shamrock plant for nearly a week, I have been watering it just about every day. Now it seems that I have drowned the wilting leaves. I pick up the pretty pot with its dying plant inside and place it back on the window sill, hoping for a stroke of luck. The shamrock was supposed to be cute and festive to celebrate March, yet every time I get one, it ends up dying before the month is over. Two years ago my cat ate the leaves until the entire plant died so this year we made sure to keep it out of her reach. It seems our efforts were in vain, however. My cat never got to the plant, but somehow the pot still contains a soppy mess of mud and thin stems. Though shamrock are supposed to be the symbol of luck, I’ve never had luck with keeping them alive.

I bent my knees and concentrated hard on the opposing team. The girl served the ball in my direction and I quickly lined up my feet and got ready for the shot. Taking a deep breath, I swung through the ball. The ball fortunately landed in and the other team scrambled into place to return it. I quickly recovered to the base line, ready for the next shot. The ball flew back and forth over the net until I hit what would be the winning shot. The other team returned my hit, sending the ball flying high into the air. Watching in anticipation, my partner and I let out a sigh of relief as the girl’s shot landed out. We had finally won the match. I turned around to my partner, excited that the drawn out match had come to an end in our favor. We quickly shook hands with the other team before going to tell our coaches the score.

My fingers began to grow numb as I gripped the racket tightly. Ignoring the bitter air, I focused on my partner volleying the ball. The opposing team returned the ball over the net and I moved into position. I swung at the ball, driving it to the other side. We played the point out and then continued with the match. As we played, the sun began to poke out from behind the clouds. Warmth finally settled in and my fingers no longer felt numb. Soon the match ended and we left practice, prepared for the real competition tomorrow.

I woke up from my nap and groaned internally. All I wanted was to let sleep encompass me, and yet, I knew the cost of sleep. I still had to write my slice and an extra credit paper. If I fell asleep for good, none of these things would happen. Stripping the covers off from my body, I slowly rolled off of the couch. I grabbed the computer and reluctantly pulled up edublogs. With a yawn, I struggled through the remainder of my homework, fighting off the oncoming sleep.

I gripped the cold wheel tightly as I guided the car down the driveway. The car jerked over the potholes and I immediately slowed the car down. Every spring as the ground thaws, our driveway would turn into a muddy disaster. This year is no exception. Water splashed onto the side of the car as I hit another pothole. I flicked the windshield wipers, clearing the windshield of rain and water from the potholes. Slowing down even more, I gently turned into the garage. I checked both sides, trying to avoid hitting the mirror on the side of the garage. Once I was clear I rolled into the garage. Quickly pressing on the brakes, the car jolted to a stop. I am still unfamiliar with driving so stopping is still pretty jerky. I put the car in park. pulled out the keys, and got out.

Rain fell gently outside, pattering against the window as I pulled on my dance dress. Running out of time, I hastily blow dried my hair before running to the bathroom to brush my teeth. The morning had flown by too quickly and I was soon in the car on my way to the Day of Music.

My dance troupe met in our usual room and we quickly organized our dances. In just half an hour we were lined up on stage for our first dance. March had worn us all out so it took all of our energy to perform. The music started and we relied on the energy of the crowd and stage to fuel us as we danced. Forcing smiles on our faces, we wearily danced through our set list, giving it all of our energy. We finished the performance with a bow and then went to the craft show.

As the advanced troupe walked through the gym and looked at the booths, we all agreed that we were “danced out.” No matter how much we love dancing, this March has been a long month and we need a break.