Contretemps
con·tre·temps (kŏn'trə-täɴ', kôɴ'trə-täɴ') n. pl. contretemps (-täɴz', -täɴz') An unforeseen event that disrupts the normal course of things; an inopportune occurrence.
In medieval times, when a person brought ill-luck to someone else, or brought it upon themselves often enough, they were considered to be a witch or a heretic, and burnt at the stake. Mostly women, they were considered to practice black magic and were called Sorceresses. If they weren't burnt at the stake, at the very least, they were outcasts. They were ignored, secluded and alone.
In today's times, witchcraft is mostly not believed in, and heresy and burning women at the stake is considered to be a heinous crime. And no one believes that someone who's been through a lot of bad luck is a witch. Heheh.
But I think the stigma that existed back then which made witches ignored, secluded and alone was just a more medieval way of not going through the trouble of dealing with such a person. Today too, people don't want to deal with people like that. And oddly enough, I am one of those people today.
No, I don't feel like a witch. And no, I'm not depressed or upset or wallowing in self-pity. I'm in pretty high spirits, given the circumstances. I'm just making an observation.
I find myself asking someone for help but feeling guilty about it. I walked up and down 3 flights of stairs 6 times this morning, to do my laundry. I asked one of my flatmates if they could help me. They said yes, but when they didn't call me when they were ready to do it, I just went and did it myself. It took me 2 hours and 45 minutes. Something that usually takes only an hour and a half.
I needed to know if I was going to be able to take the lift upto the 5th floor at LIPA since it's been out of order for the last week, and on tuesday I had to painfully hobble up and down the 5 flights of stairs. I asked my teachers, I asked the dance office, I asked my classmates. No one responded. So I stayed home and missed another day of college.
I'm feeling like I'm making too much out of this knee. Maybe I am. Maybe it's not a big deal that I split it open and needed 7 stitches after losing about a litre of blood. Well, no. I'm not feeling like I'm making a big deal of it. I'm hobbling around on my own, going out, cooking my own food, doing my own laundry, going to the doctors on my own...the day after it happened though, a friend of mine wanted me to come to the cinema. I said I couldn't walk. She said "oh!take a taxi" so matter-of-factly(bless her, maybe she hadn't seen the state of me, that's why) that I actually felt like I was making too much of a big deal out of it by not wanting to do that. I was in so much pain I couldn't walk without either tears streaming down my face, or at the very least, wincing so much that no one at home let me move! How would I have sat in the cinema hall with no leg room? What if someone had bumped into my knee in the dark? Am I being paranoid?!?!
Don't get me wrong. No one's doing any injustice to me. My friends here have been fantastic. They've looked after me. Well, at least Rich and my flatmates have. Rich was with me during the whole ordeal, he changed my dressing the other day, cleaned my wound and bandaged me up (because the NHS refused to make a house visit, despite the fact that I couldn't walk). Emma wiped the blood off my feet because I couldn't reach it. Hannah cooked me prawn curry, and Emma cooked me pasta. Mike and Rob have been helping me to sit by lifting my leg up for me and putting it on a stool with a pillow under it. They've been great.
So, I don't know what's wrong with me.
Maybe it's all this contretemps -
In medieval times, when a person brought ill-luck to someone else, or brought it upon themselves often enough, they were considered to be a witch or a heretic, and burnt at the stake. Mostly women, they were considered to practice black magic and were called Sorceresses. If they weren't burnt at the stake, at the very least, they were outcasts. They were ignored, secluded and alone.
In today's times, witchcraft is mostly not believed in, and heresy and burning women at the stake is considered to be a heinous crime. And no one believes that someone who's been through a lot of bad luck is a witch. Heheh.
But I think the stigma that existed back then which made witches ignored, secluded and alone was just a more medieval way of not going through the trouble of dealing with such a person. Today too, people don't want to deal with people like that. And oddly enough, I am one of those people today.
No, I don't feel like a witch. And no, I'm not depressed or upset or wallowing in self-pity. I'm in pretty high spirits, given the circumstances. I'm just making an observation.
I find myself asking someone for help but feeling guilty about it. I walked up and down 3 flights of stairs 6 times this morning, to do my laundry. I asked one of my flatmates if they could help me. They said yes, but when they didn't call me when they were ready to do it, I just went and did it myself. It took me 2 hours and 45 minutes. Something that usually takes only an hour and a half.
I needed to know if I was going to be able to take the lift upto the 5th floor at LIPA since it's been out of order for the last week, and on tuesday I had to painfully hobble up and down the 5 flights of stairs. I asked my teachers, I asked the dance office, I asked my classmates. No one responded. So I stayed home and missed another day of college.
I'm feeling like I'm making too much out of this knee. Maybe I am. Maybe it's not a big deal that I split it open and needed 7 stitches after losing about a litre of blood. Well, no. I'm not feeling like I'm making a big deal of it. I'm hobbling around on my own, going out, cooking my own food, doing my own laundry, going to the doctors on my own...the day after it happened though, a friend of mine wanted me to come to the cinema. I said I couldn't walk. She said "oh!take a taxi" so matter-of-factly(bless her, maybe she hadn't seen the state of me, that's why) that I actually felt like I was making too much of a big deal out of it by not wanting to do that. I was in so much pain I couldn't walk without either tears streaming down my face, or at the very least, wincing so much that no one at home let me move! How would I have sat in the cinema hall with no leg room? What if someone had bumped into my knee in the dark? Am I being paranoid?!?!
Don't get me wrong. No one's doing any injustice to me. My friends here have been fantastic. They've looked after me. Well, at least Rich and my flatmates have. Rich was with me during the whole ordeal, he changed my dressing the other day, cleaned my wound and bandaged me up (because the NHS refused to make a house visit, despite the fact that I couldn't walk). Emma wiped the blood off my feet because I couldn't reach it. Hannah cooked me prawn curry, and Emma cooked me pasta. Mike and Rob have been helping me to sit by lifting my leg up for me and putting it on a stool with a pillow under it. They've been great.
So, I don't know what's wrong with me.
Maybe it's all this contretemps -
posted by Sylvan Goddess at 4:33 PM
5 Comments:
Hope your knee is improving
Get well sooon
And forget all about the travails u went thru with the laundry et al
It happens to all of us at times
Take it with a smile
Such is life.
Yea, sure. But tell me one more person who's had so much bad luck in a span of 4 months!
Heh. But like i said, I'm not fretting or depressed. I'm in pretty high spirits given the circumstances. :)
Cheers.
Oh! all bad luck is going out of the window into the pint soon!
AHAN...into a pint soon! :D
That is the spirit, Sylvan Goddess.
More power to your elbow ( sorry, knee)
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