It’s a tradition on a particular day in June. I check the path to make sure it’s clear of hazards then I’m ready. From the top, I start out strong, something with a good beat. Maybe Praise You by Fatboy Slim or Britney ‘s Toxic. Or some James Brown with Get On Up or Ray Charles performing What’d I Say.
I bob my head, I sway my hips, I clap. I move around the house. Upstairs, downstairs, all around. Song after song, The terrier cocks his head at me in confusion. Eventually, he hops around, too. I keep stepping. It’s a one woman dance party. Every year on my birthday.
You ever watch the Ellen show? It’s like that moment in the beginning when she cues the music and the whole audience gets up to bust a move. It’s contagious. Happy Birthday to me. Am I having a bad day? A good day? Doesn’t matter. I’m dancing myself clean, yeah.
Dancing is a mood booster, a great stress reliever. Try it. No one has to know. Are you a terrible dancer? Even better. No one is watching. Start up some songs on Pandora or Spotify or the trusty CD player. Just get up and work it out. Close the office door. Three minutes. Take it to the chorus with JT. Jump with the Pointer Sisters. You better work.
I dare you to tell me I’m wrong. Maybe you’ll make the dance break a regular thing. Happy Birthday if you do.
Which song makes you want to dance?