Improv For Introverts – Back To Class

After missing last week’s class while in Massachusetts, I was really excited to attend today.  We worked on objects, like working with objects that aren’t actually there.  So.. miming.  Another activity that was more difficult than I thought it would be.  My instincts had me rushing through each exercise because it felt uncomfortable.  The instructor did have a bit of homework for us this time.  When doing everyday tasks, take note of how it looks and feels.  Like driving a car.  How would you mime that?  You wouldn’t have clinched fists because the steering wheel would be there.  Just little things like that.  It reminded me of the concept of mindfulness that I had started to learn about when I was going to a therapist.  Being in the moment and recognizing feelings.  I really do think this improv thing could be good for my mental health.  I mean, that was my theory going in, but I was still a bit skeptical.  I can’t wait to learn and perform more.

Still on an improv high I decided to tackle Walmart after class.  Full disclosure, I used to work at Walmart back in my hometown.  However, it was a small town and even on the busiest days it couldn’t compare to the circus at any given Walmart in Phoenix.  There’s people everywhere!  Not an empty aisle in the whole damn place.  It really makes me anxious to go in there. I start sweating and my heart races.  I’d love to just browse, but it’s too chaotic an experience for that.  This time I was fueled by just performing a bit at improv class.  I was feeling pretty confident.  Honestly, I was completely fine until I passed the candle aisle and noticed they sold Yankee Candle.  I hadn’t seen any of their candles out here before.  I just assumed it was a regional product and didn’t exist here. I used to swap out the candles with each season.  Winter was always Balsm & Cedar and fall was Autumn Wreath.  Spring and Summer I was less picky about and the scents differed.  So, there I was crying over the smell of nostalgia in every jar.  There aren’t seasons here in Phoenix.  It’s either burning depths of hell hot or not so hot.  I don’t want to go too far down the rabbit hole of homesickness.  Just saying it turns out an improv class high is no match for the scent of memories.

Didn’t really have the 20 bucks, but I needed this…

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