I did something to my ankle in class on Monday. It doesn’t seem to be too major–landed a jump wrong or something. Maybe that mixed with overuse–and didn’t start hurting until I got home. It hasn’t let up so I skipped class yesterday to rest it.
As I sat there with my leg iced and elevated, I put on the vinyl I got in Austin of the entire ballet of Don Quiote.
Once that finished, I had another vinyl of a collection of works by a composer that included Nutcracker music, as well as Sleeping Beauty.
I sat there, listening to it all, snap chatting my relations. Because I am trash. 😂
My ankle feels the same today, so I’m debating sitting out class again. I want to go, especially considering next week the studio is closed for spring break, but I don’t want to screw myself over by not resting my ankle. We have a long rehearsal Saturday, and I want to be up to par for that. The struggle.
The mailman came by through the terrible rain we have right now (my favorite kind!) and delivered this
Because I am ballet trash. Haha!
But really it makes me feel better. It’s odd, because this ballet has been so painful for me, but feeling so deeply makes it almost easier to handle. Which makes no sense except that it does. At least I know I’m still alive, that I’m human, that I still feel and haven’t become numb to the world or to the thing I love to do the most. So while putting on the music may be painful, it is a kind of pain I want to feel.