Mon Dieu! Catastrophe!

Ever have one of those days when despite your best efforts things just seem to spiral out of orbit?  I proudly arrived at the rink with enough time, for once, to warm up my legs before my ice dance lesson by walking around Allen Pond at a brisk clip.  I entered the lobby of the rink full of sweat and purpose.  Feeling ready for a productive session, I carefully pulled on my boots (newly inspired after a trip of Skater's Paradise) and as I was removing the slack from the laces of my left boot, the leather around one of the top eyelets tore through!  This was 5 minutes before the lesson.  With no good alternatives, I skipped those eyelets, (telegraphing even more tension to the remaining good eyelets), and told myself I still had plenty of support--so suck it up buttercup.  I was able to stagger through the lesson in reasonable form, and afterwards took my injured boot to a local cobbler.  The lady looked at the boot, shook her head worryingly and then, after discussing various patching strategies, told me "$15 dollar, you pay now.  Boot ready Tuesday."  English is not her first language, hopefully leather repair is.  So that's it.  No skating until Tuesday after 4pm--assuming my cobbler remains timely.  I was hoping to delay springing for new boots until after Christmas but I think they're gently telling me that they're tired of the constant punishment, and that they long for retirement.  And what of the lesson itself?  Despite my best intentions, it was kind of a blur.  We worked on partnering and posture.  The only thing I clearly remember is the coach telling me that the female skater is the "picture"; the male skater is the "frame".  Translation:  the judges and the peeps in the bleachers are focusing on the girl in the skimpy costume--the guy in black is just an afterthought!