being able to combine errand-running, a visit to brighton, good coffee, and work on my dissertation into one afternoon has made me very, very happy. i discovered a couple of months ago, after a visit to the optometrist to have my eyes tested, that i needed glasses (the curse of the phd student, i'm afraid). for a long time, i avoided even thinking about getting glasses. i was content to struggle along, half-blind, and not be inconvenienced by some awkward, unflattering metal/plastic/resin concoction perched on my nose and tucked behind my ears.
then the headaches started. and the eye tiredness. and the bloodshot left eye in particular, and the forces that rule the world of me decreed glasses necessary. i hunted out a pair i really like in brighton, ensured they were covered under my medical plan, and very resourcefully came to town today to, as the english are fond of saying, get that sorted.
i'm sitting in a great little café in the north laines, working away on a chapter draft and sipping a latté waiting for a phone call from the eyeglasses place to tell me to come and pick up my new specs (incidentally, what a great shop. the proprietor sent me on my way after i paid for my glasses with a cheery wave and a punny "see you soon", which he followed with a giggle.) and i'm surrounded not by like-minded studious macbook toting kin, but by chatty and fatigued women about my age, toting babies. i don't have a baby. i don't have one of those incredibly expensive push chairs containing a screaming pink thing in a funny hat and tiny, little shoes. i am currently the only woman in the café, other than the chick who brought my my latté, who isn't bouncing a bundle of joy on my knee.
i've thought about bouncing my bound copy of short detective story photocopies on my knee but i don't think the effect would be the same. bouncing my latté would probably get me chucked out on the sidewalk. as would squealing until someone came along and burped me.
i always find it a little unsettling when i'm confronted with others who embody in some way a path i could have taken, but didn't. in the face of all this noisy, new life, my decision to stay in school, write a book, and become a doctor seems selfish. but it also seems sane. a book manuscript is not a person, and i'm not for one minute suggesting the fulfillment it provides should replace the fulfillment that these women around me no doubt feel, however, i do have to say, i'm still happy with my choice in life.
even if it has left me with the eyesight of an 80 year-old granny.
