Once I woke up with half of me not moving. I feel very fortunate that I got that wakeup call at age 26, rather than at, say, age 70, because now I don't waste my days. If I'm going to wake up again one day the way I did in 2001, I want to know that the day before I didn't waste my day. Now every night before I go to sleep I make sure I'm at peace with the way my life went that day.
I have not wasted my day today. I have spent 8½ hours of it at school and 6½ hours of it dancing and playing the violin. Exhausted? Yes. Full of life? Absolutely. I will feel like crap tomorrow but it will have been so worth it. Did everyone else feel my happiness tonight? Did M. feel it when we danced? I felt so happy to dance with him (and felt a couple of other unpublishable things that make me sort of go "hrmph" at myself, but oh well. I will not squash them). :-)
HOWevah, even in the interest of not wasting one's day, one should not dance Tango for more than an hour wearing clogs, even if they are one's really swanky shiny red clogs, and even though one's dance shoes were forgotten blocks away in the trunk of one's car. But only if one would like to have some skin on the bottoms of one's feet afterwards.