I realized, while I laid on the dance floor looking at the ceiling fans rotate, that I was getting college credit for laying on the floor looking at ceiling fans. Later we, as a class, would discuss the movement exercise, analyzing why we did the things we did. While doing this, I wouldn't volunteer my observation that we were exploring a fine line here in dance class, not the line between dance and landscape architecture, but a line that ran dangerously close between imagination fun house and psyche-ward antics. My observation had been reinforced by watching my professor wander through the room covering his eyes with his hands while another student shoved other students into him. All while the woman with the bullet hole on her forehead whooped and hollered. And even though I wouldn't trade this class for any other I did have to pause and analyze my education to this point.
The assignment, after dividing the class up into thirds, was to listen to your body and react to what you were feeling. After running across the room several times and slamming into the ballet bar each time, I was tired and that's what led me to lay down in front of the room's doors and look up. I would have stayed there until our time was up, but the other performers had started jumping over me. At that point I decided it was best to move and got up to run in a circle waving my arms above my head. Usually I like to screech when I do this, but the woman with the bullet hole was already doing that.
And, last week I got diagnosed with ADHD, the non-hyper version. The psychologist said I had a fair amount of anxiety not related to the ADHD that I should tend to, but I don't think I'll bother.