.JPG)
Some lessons seem impossible to learn. This particular result is due to round house kicking a strong forward velocity towards me. I'm not sure points matter if the physics don't work. My foot utterly hyper extended the completely wrong way. I dropped, my adrenaline started pumping, and up I went without any obvious care. Six hours after class though, my foot could bear absolutely no weight and I was in screaming pain. While I'm unsure if I broke down into tears due to the utter frustration of the logistical challenges that I knew were ahead of me, or if it was because it hurt that badly, both pain and fury drove my emotions all the way into ER.
Never has the ownership of a clutch vehicle become so very useless, but at least I get a state to state chauffeur (Eric) as we pick a new home in Asheville and then spend some valuable family time in the Shenandoah Valley through the rest of the week.
Meanwhile, my true soul destruction was the cello breakage. While my poor cello teacher had to bring me back from utter depression with anecdotes of truly horrific instrument disasters in comparison to my own complete klutziness, it was amusing to realise how different our values were. I completely dismissed my own foot sprain while he suffered nausea thinking about it; while I felt unworthy to touch a bow again, he seemed bemused with my self-torture.
June 5 will hopefully be a day to celebrate with the crutches tossed (hopefully sooner!) and the cello back into gear.
