Tuesday, November 23, 2010
I am blind as a bat- it's not even funny. On a side note, is that an accurate statement, blind as a bat? Are they really blind? How do they see at night then? Anyway, I digress. Back to the point. C always gets on me about where I put my glasses because 9 times out of 10 I lose them and end up making an appointment for a new pair and those bad boys add up. I need a tracking device for them por favor!
I've gotten a lot better about where I keep my glasses. Usually they are on my nightstand or on the counter. On the off chance C finds them, he puts them in one of those two spots for me. Now, if you know me well, you know I have two faults. One, I'm SUPER clumsy. B, I lose things like it's my job. I really do. At the mall I had to call security because I lost my car, but found they found it in the spot I left it at, woops. So yea, it's bad. (Another reason I'm not ready for kids yet, if I lose things, I hope to goodness I wouldn't lose a kid!)
With the holidays around the corner we have had a boat load of people at our house. (Don't worry, this story gets better, I promise!). So, long story short, someone left a pair of glasses on our counter, so C automatically assumed they were mine and put them on the nightstand. Side note, I have had the same pair for the four years we have been together. Mine are purple. These were brown. Why he thought these were mine is another story. Why I thought they were mine is even worse.....
I wake up for work, go shower, get ready, and throw on my glasses. My eyes were a lot foggy, but I assumed I just wasn't awake yet. As I walked down the hall I thought something wasn't right. Next thing I know I tumble down the stairs. Apparently I can't see out of the glasses! Rather then thinking these aren't mine, I scamper to the phone, call C and begin crying/hyperventaliting/gasping to call the doctor ASAP as I have gone crazy and can no longer see out of my eyes. It was very traumatic.
At that moment I took off said glasses to wipe my tears. I noticed again these were an odd shape. I begin feeling my way around the kitchen and find, in my jacket pocket, MY glasses. So I call him back and tell him false alarm, I'm going to make it after all.
Moral of the story? Get Lasik. UGH.