When no one is looking, I like to dance. Now I realize that despite what I think and my most bestest efforts, I do not look like Shakira. I imagine I look a bit like what a Tracy Anderson workout video would look like if she was convulsing on peyote and/or having a spastic seizure. And you know, I am ok with that. My daughter has caught me a couple of times, which incited fits of laughter each time. But I don’t mind. It makes me feel good.
A typical playlist to make me get all Jim Morrison in my kitchen follows, enjoy.
Good times.
