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Feb. 23rd, 2004 04:58 pmGood and bad this week, and I'm feeling most of the bad right now. I didn't just sprain my foot, I broke it, and I'm on crutches at least until tomorrow when I see the orthopedist. My bike's down at Baxter since I got a ride from Camp Sec back; I really hope it doesn't get stolen. My foot hurts, as it has since Friday, and it turns out it's been very stupid to be up and about as much as I have. What with it broken and all.
How I did it: carelessness, more or less. Running down the stairs of Big Beckman in the dark, missing the last set, and landing on the outer edge. Screaming. Getting Isaac to carry me back to the couches, and Jonathan to carry me from the top of the Galileo stairs to South. I'm not going to complain about any lack of comfort in the rides--much better than walking. Robin was wonderful and got ice. I figured out how to climb up to bed and got to sleep. I wrapped it up and walked around, thinking it was a sprain or something. I even danced at the party- not the smartest.
The party was good, though, at least what I was there for. I loved the music: some sort of trance/techno (I don't know subgenres) with enough bass that I could feel it vibrating behind my breastbone. And, for once, not loud enough to completely destroy my eardrums. I even danced, as I said. The worst that could happen was people laughing at my lack of coordination, and I figured I already knew that. So I danced, and it was fun.
My dad had come by to pick up my brother and carefully didn't say I told you so or tell me not to play any more ITR games. Nor did he when I called him and told him it was broken. My dad is wonderful.
This week's workload is amazingly light. No chem, no discrete, just physics, diff eqs, and normal lab and hum stuff. Wow. A very good time to get injured, I suppose. If there is one. My hum prof actually liked my substanceless paper, amazingly enough, and physics went much better than I had expected. Good things, then.
I took Jeff to the post office to mail some apps of some sort and really enjoyed talking to him. I suppose that's the good sort of small talk, not necessarily about anything at all, but enjoyable. He encouraged me to get to know upperclassmen and gave me a hug. "You want a hug? Have a hug!" Very nice.
There was an interesting discussion on the topic of "Are groups stupid?" on Friday. We kept getting caught up on the definition of stupidity and exactly where the issue of morality figured in, but I liked it. Thoughtful discussion. I don't do enough thinking in some ways; in others I do too much.
I think I will show Jonathan the remake of the Thomas Crown Affair tonight. And maybe watch Pleasantville. I would like visitors even though the room's a mess: I doe't want to navigate stairs on crutches.
Lent's almost here and I feel so disconnected.
I think that some of my general unhappiness with this injury is that it feels like it's singled me out. In the past, if one person in a group was going to get injured, it was probably me. At daycamp, when roughhousing. Me. And I know that I tend to lack coordination but it somehow doesn't seem fair to suffer for it. Or something. I know I'm clumsy, it keeps me from doing stuff, and now I have pain and more dependence on others. Enough. Enough. Good for me to cry, probably. There's another too-much-or-not-enough.
"Terence, this is stupid stuff"
-A.E. Housman
http://www.bartleby.com/123/62.html
How I did it: carelessness, more or less. Running down the stairs of Big Beckman in the dark, missing the last set, and landing on the outer edge. Screaming. Getting Isaac to carry me back to the couches, and Jonathan to carry me from the top of the Galileo stairs to South. I'm not going to complain about any lack of comfort in the rides--much better than walking. Robin was wonderful and got ice. I figured out how to climb up to bed and got to sleep. I wrapped it up and walked around, thinking it was a sprain or something. I even danced at the party- not the smartest.
The party was good, though, at least what I was there for. I loved the music: some sort of trance/techno (I don't know subgenres) with enough bass that I could feel it vibrating behind my breastbone. And, for once, not loud enough to completely destroy my eardrums. I even danced, as I said. The worst that could happen was people laughing at my lack of coordination, and I figured I already knew that. So I danced, and it was fun.
My dad had come by to pick up my brother and carefully didn't say I told you so or tell me not to play any more ITR games. Nor did he when I called him and told him it was broken. My dad is wonderful.
This week's workload is amazingly light. No chem, no discrete, just physics, diff eqs, and normal lab and hum stuff. Wow. A very good time to get injured, I suppose. If there is one. My hum prof actually liked my substanceless paper, amazingly enough, and physics went much better than I had expected. Good things, then.
I took Jeff to the post office to mail some apps of some sort and really enjoyed talking to him. I suppose that's the good sort of small talk, not necessarily about anything at all, but enjoyable. He encouraged me to get to know upperclassmen and gave me a hug. "You want a hug? Have a hug!" Very nice.
There was an interesting discussion on the topic of "Are groups stupid?" on Friday. We kept getting caught up on the definition of stupidity and exactly where the issue of morality figured in, but I liked it. Thoughtful discussion. I don't do enough thinking in some ways; in others I do too much.
I think I will show Jonathan the remake of the Thomas Crown Affair tonight. And maybe watch Pleasantville. I would like visitors even though the room's a mess: I doe't want to navigate stairs on crutches.
Lent's almost here and I feel so disconnected.
I think that some of my general unhappiness with this injury is that it feels like it's singled me out. In the past, if one person in a group was going to get injured, it was probably me. At daycamp, when roughhousing. Me. And I know that I tend to lack coordination but it somehow doesn't seem fair to suffer for it. Or something. I know I'm clumsy, it keeps me from doing stuff, and now I have pain and more dependence on others. Enough. Enough. Good for me to cry, probably. There's another too-much-or-not-enough.
"Terence, this is stupid stuff"
-A.E. Housman
http://www.bartleby.com/123/62.html
