Say it with me now . . .

Progress is progress, no matter how slow.
Progress is progress, no matter how slow.
Progress is progress. . .

This is my mantra for getting my work done and eventually finishing out this crazy thing called grad school. It doesn't help that I'm not only a perfectionist but also an impatient perfectionist. But it's definitely worse to freak out about a big project and not do ANYTHING than it is to slowly chip away at it at what feels like a maddeningly slow pace. Rome wasn't built in a day, and all that.

Tonight I'm going to a "floor work" workshop for bellydance. I'm not sure exactly what I'm going to learn, and I'm a little nervous because of I do know that every "how to avoid injury during dance" article includes alot of warnings about floor work. But I figure, if I'm going to learn any of these moves, I best learn them from the teacher who is a certified nurse and all-around veteran of bellydance. My knees may not thank me tomorrow.