Oh Cicero

For the last two days, I’ve spent the afternoons at Panera Bread Company. In addition to the free Wi-Fi and the Asiago Cheese bagels, I’ve found Panera pretty conducive to studying, especially on sunny days when I need to get out of the house. Since I slept in this morning, I threw on a typical grad student outfit (oversized sweatshirt, sweatpants, and glasses) and headed out. When I got here the place was packed, and for the first time I had to settle for one of those table/booth combinations. There was a free tabooth near the door, but since someone had left their newspaper and coat on the seat, I had to slide a few things over before I sat down. Whatever, I thought, and slid the stuff over, unpacked my bags, and got to work. The elderly couple sitting across from me just stared.

About three hours later, I was still working, toiling, struggling, sweating. I wish I knew what it was about Cicero’s text that challenges me so. He is a verbose writer, but that’s par for the course with these ancient texts. I understand that. Still, something about the elaborateness of the dialogues in this text exhausts me. Granted, I have been sick some this semester, and at points, finishing my readings has been really difficult. But damn, I feel better today than I have in a long time and Cicero is still humbling me. I’m a little nervous. Shouldn’t reading become easier in your second year?

About a half-hour ago, I was coming to the end of book two, and wading through Antonius’ discussion of arrangement and memory when I must have dozed off. I woke up to the sound of a Panera worker coming through the door beside me and a fresh batch of senior citizens looking at me. Since I was thirsty, I went to get a drink.

When I got the counter, the Panera worker that passed my tabooth earlier was working the register. I stepped forward to order my drink, and after I said “A large fountain drink, please,” he just looked at me and said, “it’s free.”

“Free? Are you sure.”

“Yeah, you look like you can use it.”

Damn. Did I look that exhausted and mentally spent? Did he see my copy of De Oratore and take pity? Don’t get me wrong, free is still free, and I’m grateful for that good samaritan. But damn Cicero. Damn.

~I have spoken~