The Masochist's Institute of Technologyanecdotes of an ambitious MIT student

If everything went according to plan, I would be making my first two performances with Dance Revelasian today. One of them would even be on Kresge’s stage, at the CSSA College Festival Gala, in which all of Boston’s 12 colleges plus a handful of professionals will be performing. It would be excellent exposure and I would probably be positively beaming after being in the spotlight. However, life must hate me or something, because last night the worst thing that could happen to a dancer managed to happen to me:

I sprained my foot.

It’s a rather long story as to how I actually accomplished it. To shorten the anecdote: I was basically running on my way to Ashdown, trying to make a meeting at 6:15 (it was 5:50 at the time). I had dashed across Brigg’s Field, but for some reason the open gate on the south side doesn’t have a corresponding open gate on the north side. After anxious pacing back and forth along the north end, finding no open gate, I ran back to dorm row and around the student center.

Just as I was about to dash across the street, I tripped over myself and landed in the middle of the road. Thank goodness the closest cars were a good distance away, but nonetheless I managed to roll/crawl my way back to the sidewalk, where I clutched my foot and willed the tears not to come out of my eyes.

I have twisted/strained my foot before, but it had never hurt this much in my life. I merely sat there in a ball as I called my friends to come help me back to the dorm. Since I had hurt my foot and healed easily before, I decided that there was no need to go see MIT Medical. In fact, I did quite a bit of hobbling/walking around last night to prove to myself that I would be okay for tomorrow’s performances.

After waking up, however, my foot is throbbing with pain. I can barely stand, much less walk or dance. And to a dancer, this is the worst feeling ever: not being able to dance when you want to dance. I had especially wanted to perform today, and even told all of my friends to come watch. Now I’ll be reduced to a member of the audience, and my performance-loving self is simply incapable of bearing this.

Why now, and why me?