I am gradually getting over the respiratory virus. I am still coughing some and my appetite is negligible. Maybe I am done with being sick for the rest of the winter. I hope so.
For some reason, I had thoughts of the little place that I rented when I was in graduate school. I was in love and living alone. But, C. and I managed to spend our days working together and most of our nights sleeping together. There were parties then--wild and crazy intellectual conversations fueled by drink and marijuana. Some parties were about ten people getting together, while others included all the students, staff and professors. There were great bonfires by the water in winter, while in summer, we swam and played volleyball.
So many of us went on to be professors, federal or state researchers, heads of agencies. We played and worked hard, mostly taking ourselves very seriously. I remember how incensed C. was when she was asked by a dean of a prestigious school to which she had applied for the Ph.D, "Are you coming here to study or will you look for a husband and then leave?" She was one of the few women in the field then. Having to be better than the men was necessary, and there was a lot of bias against women. But she persevered, wrote the Dean to say she would not be coming after she had been accepted, and opted to complete her Ph.D at William and Mary.
I have enormous respect for those who overcome obstacles to achieve their goals. Some days, I miss our impetuous youth when anything seemed possible and nothing seemed too difficult. I remember those days like they were yesterday. Is this what happens when you reach middle age--remembering what it was like back when?