Regret

This morning as dawn approached the hypnagogic state played havoc with my determination to rise for KSC, which I have been absent from the past 3 weeks.  Fatigue got the best of me and my fall back plan included Michelle Corso at 945, daunting as that prospect seemed, the 2 hour plus prep for Kristen on a Monday was even more remote. Regret.

As my second chance approached, another prospect became apparent, because Damian had a new time slot at 430 and I quickly adjusted my schedule and made the commitment for the afternoon setting in the CS. And that is where I found myself today in the Young Atlas session.  

The studio was half full even at the odd hour of 430, probably a testament to this young man’s meteoric rise in popularity, as his talent is getting more airplay, rising to 8 sessions between Roslyn and Woodbury.  He shows the talent as if he has been teaching the craft of spin for more than a decade.  He has what it takes and Young Atlas is exacting in his call and choreography, which he mixes like the finely tuned keys of the glockenspiel, spanning the decades of music like the DJ he must have been in his other life. No regret. 

However, I do have one regret. It does not involve the Young Atlas, however. It was the 330 tuna fish sandwich that kept trying to reconcile itself with digestion and level 10 on the resistance dial. Gastric regret.