I spent most of the day cleaning the bathroom. It takes me a while because I can only stand for a couple of minutes before I have to rest my legs. I don't mind. I've learned that taking my time with things usually means they get done better anyway. It's not so much a handicap as it is a God-designed quality control system. At least, that's how I see it.
Anyway, I had my earbuds in, listening to that special playlist of guilty pleasures that would cause the Ruling Reddcub to give me that look. All of the sudden, the connection between my brain and my legs was fully there again. This is not rare. As a matter of fact, it happens frequently enough as to not be a surprise.
But this time, there was the perfect set of circumstances, and I got to dance. It was glorious, and when it was over, I wasn't even a little bit sad.
I've said it before: being happy with who I am is a fiercely active thing. I feel accomplished, and the bathroom got clean.
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