Guilt-tripping myself for not having practiced on Friday and Saturday, I practiced for three hours tonight to find that the Thornock and van Noordt had magically improved themselves during my absence, the van Noordt after two weeks of neglect. The generosity of the carillon deities is an infuriating gift. I practice myself silly and stay frustrated, and when frustrated with guilt for not practicing, I'm actually improving. We can never be happy, can we?
Tom was two blocks ahead of me when I left the school. Huffing and puffing, I caught up with him and yelled "TOM!!!", shaking him out of iPod bliss. "Had no idea a gimp was limping madly after you for the past two blocks, eh?"
Relearning to walk has been going surprisingly slowly, but tonight I had a revelation. I have to exaggerate swaying my hip to the right so I don't always look like I'm about to tip over to the left. Whether this is an aspect of normal walking remains a mystery; it surely feels unnatural, like trying to do the "woman walk." But even that would be an improvement over the gimp strut.
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