I don't know what's happened. Well, I sort of do - the people in my year are inescapably lovely, and with every new class I steel myself to go to, going in becomes easier. Today was bloody difficult; I went to movement class for the first time. If you were watching during the time I was on the opera course, you'll remember just how much fun I had dealing with it then. It terrifies me. I don't think I'm exaggerating in saying that going into that class today was one of the most frightening things I'll ever have to do. But I went. And it was pretty dreadful, to be honest, but that's all right. I made it. And I'll be going back. And that's - I'm just - I'm so stupidly, stupidly proud of myself. I wouldn't normally say that out loud but really, if you were in my head, you would, too. This week has been so astonishing.
I'm exhausted, and a bit overwhelmed. I'm glad I've got a weekend in which I'm not (I don't think) doing anything. I just want to relax and think about things and get ready for next week. But it'll be easier! So much easier.
Also, There's This Guy. He's not the only reason I want to keep going back, but he's a good thing, nonetheless.
Hugs are good, by the way, if you're wondering what to say and can't think of anything. :)