The one class that I don't hate made me cry today. Is it OK to quit yet?

My dance teacher was doing individual evaluations. These are terribly nerve-wracking, but add in the fact that my left hand was numb and uncooperative and you've got an amazing recipe for self-consciousness. Teacher gets to me, and says you're doing OK, but it looks like you've got a gimpy arm. Yeah.

As a frequent diner at the Filet of Sole club ("open mouth, insert foot"), I didn't mention that I actually did have a bad arm. Instead, I just tried like hell to get it working. Then he went for a nearly unprecedented second round of individuals, and I was apparently unsuccessful at looking well. So, this time before he could say anything I just said "it's not going to do anything today," and explained about the carpal tunnel issues. And suddenly I was so frustrated I had tears in my eyes. I went to the drinking fountain, where I spent about five minutes convincing myself that I could go back to class without crying again.

He caught me after class, and I really had to avoid talking to him. He's a nice guy, and I don't fault him for doing his job, but at that moment I was so frustrated and humiliated that anything I said would have carried the simple purpose of misplaced revenge. Ugly, ugly feelings. Yuck.