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Impatience
May. 1st, 2006 09:01 pmOkay. It's been several days since my surgery, now. Can I be better, please?
I've been good. I've been resting, and using my crutches, and taking it easy. I've taken it so damn easy and rested so much that my backside is almost numb. I want to take a shower instead of a bath. I want to walk into the next room, pick up a book, and walk back without having to bring a backpack or carry it in my teeth like some kind of demented assistance dog. If I have to spend one more day watching other people pick up my mail or bring me a soda because I can't carry a cup and walk at the same time I'm going to....
All right, I'm going to do absolutely nothing, because I'm not foolish enough to sacrifice long-term health for short-term triumph. But I'm going to feel incredibly frustrated. The temptation to push my recovery, though, is amazingly strong.
On the upside, I made it through yesterday's entire event without significant pain, stress, or trouble, mostly due to the unending aid of my sweetie and a few other people who helped with fetching, carrying, and setting up. And I was rewarded with a fabulous Arts and Sciences display, not to mention a very nice event overall.
I have realized, though, that I absolutely hate judging competitions. I've done it once, and if I'm lucky I'll never have to do it again. There's no pleasant way to choose, especially when the entrants are all friends of yourself and each other, and all alarmingly talented in wildly different and incomparable fields. I do not envy our baron; while I had to do this just once, it must be a frequent dilemma for him.
I was also rewarded for making it through the day by a phenomenal surprise in court (though apparently I was the only one surprised; the conspiracy was quite successful in hiding any hint of it from me) - for my work in reconstructing, and teaching, and performing dance, I've been.... awarded? Inducted? I have no idea of the phraseology, but I'm now been somethinged into the Order of the Terpsichore. 24 hours later, and I'm still flabbergasted, and elated, and delighted, and.... wow.
So. Life is overall very, very good. But I'm still ready to be healed now.
I've been good. I've been resting, and using my crutches, and taking it easy. I've taken it so damn easy and rested so much that my backside is almost numb. I want to take a shower instead of a bath. I want to walk into the next room, pick up a book, and walk back without having to bring a backpack or carry it in my teeth like some kind of demented assistance dog. If I have to spend one more day watching other people pick up my mail or bring me a soda because I can't carry a cup and walk at the same time I'm going to....
All right, I'm going to do absolutely nothing, because I'm not foolish enough to sacrifice long-term health for short-term triumph. But I'm going to feel incredibly frustrated. The temptation to push my recovery, though, is amazingly strong.
On the upside, I made it through yesterday's entire event without significant pain, stress, or trouble, mostly due to the unending aid of my sweetie and a few other people who helped with fetching, carrying, and setting up. And I was rewarded with a fabulous Arts and Sciences display, not to mention a very nice event overall.
I have realized, though, that I absolutely hate judging competitions. I've done it once, and if I'm lucky I'll never have to do it again. There's no pleasant way to choose, especially when the entrants are all friends of yourself and each other, and all alarmingly talented in wildly different and incomparable fields. I do not envy our baron; while I had to do this just once, it must be a frequent dilemma for him.
I was also rewarded for making it through the day by a phenomenal surprise in court (though apparently I was the only one surprised; the conspiracy was quite successful in hiding any hint of it from me) - for my work in reconstructing, and teaching, and performing dance, I've been.... awarded? Inducted? I have no idea of the phraseology, but I'm now been somethinged into the Order of the Terpsichore. 24 hours later, and I'm still flabbergasted, and elated, and delighted, and.... wow.
So. Life is overall very, very good. But I'm still ready to be healed now.
