The world is ending.

I played chicken with the universe and lost. I’m sure it thought my last post was rather entertaining, and yet it was not amused.

I didn’t attend class Monday, but kicked my cold by skipping the coffee and replacing it with Emergen-C. That stuff works wonders.

So, I felt fine today, health-wise. The bruises and soreness are minimally there, so whatevs.

I skidded into class a few minutes late, saying, “I’m here! I’m here!”

Other than Instructor, no one else was.

Happily on my way to class, feeling like I’ll be coming out on top at last.

I had a daymare recently. You know, a nightmare while you’re awake? In it, Instructor announced he was canceling the daytime classes I attend due to low attendance.

I took it further in my mind with me telling him I had this daymare, and him going, “Uuumm… well, actually…” or some variation of that. Then I imagined that whole bit actually happening.

And it did. All of it. Me telling him and him responding exactly as I feared he would.

Premonition? Warming me up for the let down? I have until the end of the month. Which.Is.Monday. I have one more beloved class left.

I’m taking a moment of silence here before I go on.

Okay. So, my recourse is an evening or a Saturday class. I have done those in the past, but they inconvenience my family. Plus, three words: Savage Teen Girl. I told Instructor, “This is the funniest sentence I’ve ever said, but, I’m afraid of Fate.”

Fate is not STG’s name, but it’s something similar and has the same effect.

I explained that she utterly squashes me. She’s never needed to hold back because she, like me, has trained with men. And she’s a girl. She didn’t have to worry about hurting anyone. Until the 100-pound old lady showed up.

Instructor said, “I’m sorry that happened. Thank you for telling me. I can be sure you’re partnered with someone else.”

Fine. I guess that’s better, but in these larger classes, Instructor only has time for a quick fly by of all the partners, as opposed to the one-on-one or near one-on-one I’ve been getting.

Spoiled, I know.

My other option, I practically shudder as I type this, is 6 a.m. classes.

Ugh. Brr. Ick. Yuck. Yikes. Blech.

One of Instructor’s Surfer Dude brothers, aka The Brothers Surf (the much anticipated sequel to The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky) showed up part-way through class. At the end, Instructor let me do some Reflex and Development with both himself and Surfer Dude 2. (I can sort of tell them apart now.) R & D is what you normally do when you seriously know your stuff.

I do not seriously know my stuff. I was pretzel-fied. And at one point I mistakenly had grape vines in instead of hooks, which meant when SD2 straightened his leg, it started to pop a tendon in my knee. I yelped. He stopped and apologized for not going slower. I still feel it when I move my leg a certain way.

I will not be attending Taekwondo tonight.

Should this be the end of Betsy’s Jiu-Jitsu journey? Do I just suck it up and do whatever it takes to keep going, even if it means those larger, inconvenient classes or waking up at fffff… fffffi-iii… hang on, I can get it…. fff–iiiiivvveee a.m?

As much as I smile every time I see that gi hanging up behind me, I also really enjoy wearing these.

I guess we’ll see. But in the meantime, it’s looking like:

Betsy-0 Universe-infinity