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Hello Erika. It’s Me, Change. Again.

Funny thing happened yesterday.  I was sitting on the sidelines of a party.  Having a good time joking and laughing with some friends.  Music is playing.  Drinks are flowing.  Snide comments are flying.

Then I heard a familiar tune.  Nah.  Can’t be?  I start tapping my toe, but I still tried to ignore it.  No one else really likes the song and I know better than to stop the party.

And then I got the tap.  You know that tap.  It’s dagger-like and burrows into your shoulder blades.  You know that it’s Change and he’s asking to dance once again.

“Mr. Change, I don’t want to dance.  I’m good.” I said with a witty and flirty tone.  But he’s persistent, forceful, and my batting eyelashes don’t work on his cold heart.  “You’re gonna dance Erika.  It’s the drill.  You know you don’t have a choice.” he quietly whispers to not make a scene.  But I’m a silly girl and refused his advances.  “No thank you, Mr. Change.  Bartender!  Round on me!”

DANCE NOW.

The party stops and I had nothing else to do but drag my ass to the dance floor.  I attempted to pull off some awkward moves while everyone watched.  We “dance” because I have no choice.  But I’m certainly not enjoying the song or my jerk of a dance partner.

I just had this dance but I was having a really good time at the party, so my moves are done begrudgingly.

But because I’ve been here before, I also know eventually the song has a pretty catchy chorus and my hips shake pretty damn nicely once I hit my groove.  Change will soften his hardness and will turn into a dreamy dance partner. I never know when the transformation will happen.  You keep shaking and simply wait for the beat to hit.

It always hits.  So you just keep dancing.

But right now, he’s an asshole.

 

*I’m getting pretty proficient with my Change/It All Works Out writing that’s for sure.  I’m positive there’s a few more posts, but I’m still hating my current dance partner.  So it’d be too much on my sanity for me to dig…

** I have another party to go to, so don’t worry too much about me.  Problem is the last party was fun and I’ll really miss it.  And don’t tell me the next one will be just as fun.  Changes is spewing that into my ear and I’m trying to avoid his spit.  I get it.  I do.  But I don’t have to relish it.
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