As I sit at my computer on this summer evening, and watch my hands flutter across the keyboard, one thing is one my mind: I’m not really “watching”! I sit, and think, and type a few letters, perhaps with the addition of an unwelcome x in the middle of an otherwise mundane word. It has turned into a very slow process…
It never used to be like that. I used to write all the time, whether it was a detailed essay examining setting in Yann Martel’s “Life of Pi”, or a short story about the day our family dog was run over by a car (he survived the accident, don’t worry!). However, now writing to me seems like a bicycle sitting up in the shed; one that I haven’t gotten a chance to ride in a very long time. Yes, I know, one could argue that I’m writing at this very moment, and that I have already done so if I simply just scroll down the page of this blog.
Just humour me for a moment, and scroll down, will you? Look at how the language has changed, even the simple paragraph structure has changed! I used to write long, and detailed paragraphs, now I feel like I jump from one idea to another, without much connective tissue to tie all the ideas together. If you don’t believe me from reading this blog, then all you have to do is listen to me speak lately. Stupid grammar mistakes and mispronunciations are becoming a much more regular occurrence, and I feel as if I’m starting to sound a little more like the friends I have who come from other countries where English is not the first language.
Four years ago (and I just had to stop myself from using the digit “4” instead of the word!) I was writing up a storm, not to mention the fact that my brain was still “wired” for it. It feels like I’m deathly close to a short-circuit at any moment.
Well, to sum up the last four meandering paragraphs: I’ve been feeling stupid lately.
There it is. That awful stereotype that we’re supposed to do everything in our power to avoid people having these thoughts: that dancers are stupid. True, a dancing career is unlike any other in that most are employed in a ballet company full-time directly out of high school, there is no such post secondary grace period for dancers. After all, if we only can work until around the age of forty, and even less than that should a career ending injury befall us, we don’t have much time to lose.
So yes, we are lacking the formative years of post secondary education that a great deal of the population has…and that fact used to not bother me at all. Until I spoke a sentence that was so utterly incorrect and devoid of any grasp of English grammar, one of my Canadian friends in the company just looked at me in disbelief: “you speak so properly that we sometimes make fun of you, and you just said that??”
I knew it was time to do something about it.
Here I am, considering something that a year ago I never thought would even cross my mind; a university degree.
No, I am not planning on giving up my dream of dancing, but rather seeking something to complement the intensive work that I do with my body on a daily basis, since the upstairs half doesn’t get that much of a workout nowadays. Since we live in the wonderful age of technology, it can all be done online, one course at a time, while I keep up my fabulous life of doing what I love, and getting paid for it.
Maybe I should put in a call to the electrician, and see if he can repair a few of my “burnt-out” brain circuits first!