Between Salsa Dance Team guerilla-style rehearsals and performances [we never know where or when we're performing/rehearsing until we get the text message five minutes before we're supposed to be somewhere...I've been instructed not to "think" about such details as we are on Latino Time (i.e., whenever it happens)] and my ever-growing List of Holiday Shit To Do, and Internet searches on Jennifer Love Hewitt (ok, so I'm not that busy), and getting angry with all the flack she's getting for being a human female with a changing metabolism (thank God there's no media when I gain twenty pounds), my days seem to go by (could this sentence be any longer?) as an Unemployed Salsera (of course it can).

I don't know why I thought that if I didn't have a job I'd have all this free time, but there is no such thing as empty space, only vacums...

This weekend I danced with Surgeon Salsero. He likes to dance the night before he's going to open somebody's body up and start re-organizing their innards (why didn't I go into surgery? I'm good at organizing...oh, yeah, that med school thing).

"If I were having an organ transplant would I want my surgeon out till 2:00 am the night before?" I asked him.

"Absolutely," he answered. "It relaxes me. I even play salsa in the operating room."

Little do his patients know that the vibration of salsa is being injected into their organ (or someone else's organ that's now in their body). Having known some surgeons, I can say there are worse things he/she (so politically correct) can do the night before an operation than dance...

So many interesting people from diverse backgrounds dance salsa. It's become my unofficial, currently unpaid occupation to know them.

Just for today, I am Unemployed Salsera.