Why is it whenever I have an idea for a blog post, I don’t have time to sit down to write it, but when I have time to write a blog post, my brain feels like that meatball that rolled out of the door and under a bush?
Here I am yet again, with minutes to spare and a skull full of porridge.
In other news, I’m wearing contacts.
The daily kind. Finally, after all these years I’m no longer being discriminated against because of my amoeba-shaped eyeballs.
The assistant who tested my eyes today almost forgot to check for macular degeneration. In her words:”You look so young for your age, I forgot.” She actually said that.
I let the doctor stick the new contacts into my eyes because I developed performance anxiety the moment he asked me to wash my hands. I told him it might take me awhile to get the lenses in because I always manage to fold the thin side of the toric lens. When he offered to put them in for me, I decided I’d rather let him stick his finger in my eye than have him stare at me for five minutes while I repeatedly stuck my own fingers in my eyes.
The nice thing about wearing contacts is you can actually see yourself when you’re trying on new frames. The bad thing about wearing contacts is you can actually see yourself when you’re trying on new frames.
My inner glow from the assistant’s comment faded when I saw the truth behind those minus 4.50 plus 1.25 diopter lenses I’ve apparently been hiding under. Tired eyes, fine lines, and a slightly bluish hue underneath it all.
Nevertheless, I soldiered on, picked a pair of frames, and went home. When I got there, my 5-year-old son greeted me enthusiastically, but quickly became quiet. A few minutes later I heard, “I want you to put your glasses on.”
“Why? Do you not like how I look without glasses?”
No answer, of course.
A bit later, I sat down to pick a show on Netflix (by “show” I mean cartoon) and five-year-old says, “But you can’t see anything.”
Oh! Five-year-old doesn’t realize I have contacts in!
He was afraid I couldn’t see anything, including him. I could see him. Very well in fact.
As I was driving home from the eye doctor, I likened my contacts to a pair of Chameleon eyes. I can’t see my own ears, but it almost feels like I’ve grown a couple 360-degree twin conical turrets.
Because of the cost, it’s highly unlikely I will wear these daily contacts daily. I may, however, wear them more than once a year, which will be a huge step up. And I will always wear them with eyeliner, mascara, and the works. (So I say.)
In fact, since the boys are now in bed, I think I will go play with the girlie eye paint I bought today.
Here’s to glasses-less-ness.