I wake up. My whole body hurts. They’ve told me why now. I don’t think the reason matters right now. I moan, groan and roll over. Stretch, yell while doing it. I’m getting this body ready for the day. I will not stay in bed. Fuck that noise.
I wake up with music in my ears. A tune stuck in my head. The vestiges of a dream. So I hunt it down on my phone. I turn that shit up. I get up. Turn my speakers on LOUD. Then I come back and I dance. Yep. Dance. It starts with raising my hands. I’m lucky I got so much booty to jiggle. I’m lucky my body hurts, coz that means I can still feel it. I’m lucky I woke up.
I shimmy, I shake, I shuffle. My body warms up. I stomp. Shake my hands, get them moving away that awful stiffness. I tap a thunderous two step. I jive. I put on Clairy Browne & The Bangin’ Rackettes. I scream out all the words to I’ll Be Fine. This Queen is awake and she’s rockin. Behind my bedroom door I dance my way into the day.
Because fuck depression.
Fuck chronic pain.
And most of all, fuck Rheumatoid Arthritis.
Cos I wake up dancing.