The night.

The night is quiet. And the night is good.

I am walking back from social salsa and its nearly 10 p.m.

The sky is just slowly starting to darken. The fading sunlight drifts away into the distance, perhaps to light some other dark part of the world. I breathe in and the air is clean. No smell of petrol or fumes, no smell of booze and alcohol and vomit.

Its a quiet Monday night and I’m slightly sticky from too much salsa and too much dancing that is probably straining my cardiovascular system a little.

I’ve always been a night person. As much as I claim that I need my sleep, put me in the right conditions and I’ll choose the setting sun and the ensuing darkness anytime.

So this is 2010. Gotta bin this one now.

I’ve gotten used to writing 10 after my dates now. Initially, all I did was write 09, 09, and more 09. For the life of me, I couldn’t quite shake the habit. But now I’m back and I’m pretty sure I’m into it.

Mama Salsa mentioned offhandedly that they’re looking at teaching other styles so they were thinking of getting the more “senior” students to start teaching, with a sly sideways glance at yours truly. I felt this immense sense of “Yes! OH YEAH, BRING IT, BABY!” and thought, “Who would think that my dance aspirations would come true in a place like this? Sure, its small but any step is a first step.

But another thought immediately brought to my attention my continuing stay in this place if I keep doing this. And I thought to myself, “Hey, guess it can’t be too bad, after all.”

I’ve got an okay job that may or may not improve after a few more months, I’m in a relationship, dance is becoming a blooming hobby, and I’m living life the way I want it (thus far.)

Yeah. Who knows.

Maybe one more year.