the one in which I eat my own words. again.

Seriously.

People do eventually overcome this habit, right?

You do grow wiser with age – no?

Or must I spend all of my life eating (and then eating again) the very words from my own mouth?

Which ones, you ask?

Upon which edible assembly of mouth vomit am I swallowing back down currently?

These.

I uttered this dish so recently that they are still warm from the oven.

Still fresh.

Still digesting

But here’s the deal.

I’m not going to have that LASIK eye surgery after all.

Not yet, anyway.

It’s not that I am not anxious to ditch these contacts and these glasses and this blurry vision.

That isn’t it.

But

(there’s always a conjunction)

I just don’t think my time, my future, is now.

I could list the reasons for you.

And they make sense to me.

(Which is all that matters in a case like this, I guess.)

I did watch a video online showing the laser cutting the eye from the vantage point of the patient.

And it freaked me out, more than a little.

I did examine our budget more in depth, trying to determine not so much if we could afford it, but if it was wise.

And, you know, it isn’t as if I hadn’t already run the numbers and done the research.

I had.

(Minus that freaky video I unearthed.)

But somehow,

last night,

lying in bed

(where all good discussions should take place)

discussing ad nauseam this surgery and its pros and its cons

with Kevin,

I just felt

overwhelmed

more than I felt

peace.

And not in that healthy everyone-feels-this-way-before-a-medical-event kind of way.

You know?

Do you know?

Or maybe you don’t.

All I know

is

I cancelled my appointment,

reordered my Acuvue lenses,

and embraced the miracle that already is The Contact Lens.