How can your eyes knock you on your butt? My pupils now get smaller when light shines at them, like they’re supposed to, but the left one was still a little faster at 5PM. The right one was still dilated when the left one started to slowly react to light again. I was telling David that my entire body is just sensitive like that. A single cold pill puts me to sleep and I can have a nasty ache in my back in the morning, take one Advil and I’m good to go all day. I also drool for a half a day after I get a filling. So, my eyes were finally acting normal by about three, maybe a little after that. They are fatigued and I am tired, like the feeling after the shock wears off from a car accident or something. Yeesh!
But I can read again! I think I type a little faster when I can see what I’m doing. Knowing what’s going on the screen does help.
So now, my brain is ready to think and tell a story! Today since my eyes are knocking me on my butt, I’ll tell you about a mug and how it makes me think of shoes! Here we go!
There was a time when this mug was a dream. The dream went something like this: I walk into One CNN Center in a stylish tailored gray suit with modest pumps that are custom fitted to my medium feet with AA heels so they are comfortable and don’t slip off the back as I walk. I have a black leather soft side brief case and a cappuccino in my hand. I walk up to the security desk that leads into the office halls and the desk attendant says “Hi Davonna! Close game last night, huh?”
I say something like, “Yeah, extra innings are always nail biters this late in the season!”
Then I walk down to the office with my name on the door.
The Braves are my number two NL team, but when this dream was the current big one, the Braves were number one in my world. I had sold my loyalties to what would be my home team. Sometimes in the fantasy I worked for the Braves, not as the executive producer, but a features producer or something. I was important, but I wasn’t in charge of everything. I think even in my Type A days, I subconsciously wanted out of my marriage to work.
Sometimes I was a main editor for World Championship Wrestling and other times I was a marketing specialist for TBS basketball, but my dream of dreams was always to work for something related to the umbrella of Turner Sports and I always had the perfect shoes.
I feel in love with the city of Atlanta the first time I visited there in 1989. It was just a kind of magic. The first time I was there with Mom, I didn’t even go to CNN Center. It was the next year when I went on my own that I visited CNN. You see, I was sure I wanted to be in Atlanta, but after my visit to CNN, I knew that I wanted to work there!
That trip I took alone was where the shoes come into the fantasy so vividly for someone who hates shoes. I had gone to Atlanta to look for work, so I was dressed professionally when I was downtown. A light-colored conservative, for me, suit with moderate heels that I hated, They killed my feet, but I was in my 20s and better able to do the walking in them and dumber about putting up with it. It was only a few years later that I adopted the habit of leaving them under my desk at work and going with stocking feet unless I was meeting with someone from the public.
I was going to take the tour at CNN and walked past the guy who shines shoes there. He said hello and asked if I wanted to take a break and he’d buff my shoes for me. I thanked him but said no. Then he asked me how old my shoes were. I thought that was an odd question, but he proceeded to tell me that he could tell by my walk that they didn’t fit right. Either they were older and stretched or I needed better shoes. I was a bit amazed. He offered a seat and he took a look at my shoes. He was the first person to ever tell me that my heels were narrow, that my shoes weren’t supposed to slip like they did. He told me that I might be better off to consider investing in custom shoes.
“Good shoes make a difference in everything!” He told me I had nice legs and good shoes would show them off better too. Yeah. That’s how the older gentleman’s advice became an important part of the fantasy. In the dream I can afford the custom shoes!
I’ve been to CNN a few times alone, with my parents, with friends. And I always get to relive that moment of conversation with a smile. Every time I walk past the shoe shine area, I remember fondly the 50-ish African American man with the warm smile who let me sit in his chair for a few minutes free-of-charge with his flattering comments and his volumes of knowledge about shoes.