This is what happens when you find out that you have an injury that is going to take some time to heal. You think about what you're going to do with all that time. There are suddenly huge piles of empty hours that need to be occupied with something or else you will turn into a mushy lump. Anything that involves moving in any degree of vigorous is out. No dancing, obviously, no long walks, no running, no wandering around a city on foot so you can poke into interesting corners.
So I'm starting a blog.
I'm thinking about all the movies I'm going to watch.
There are always books to read.
I'm writing again, which is surprisingly enjoyable.
I want to tinker at the piano and relearn all the French I've forgotten.
I may actually finish a knitting project.
There are lots of things that aren't dancing which are interesting, fascinating, and wonderful, but the sad thing is, a month of them might be a novelty, but four to six seems like a long slog of grey.