The Eyes of March--A Day in Vignettes
Is there a word for a feeling of dread as you get an exam back that you are sure you did poorly on and as you turn to the grade imagining an 84 or so at best and instead seeing 104 instead and the dread turns into a mix of confusion, happiness, and pride? Is there a word for a person who would find an 84 to be a terrible grade? Is there a word for someone who worries about things that really aren't going to be that bad? Is there a word for someone who backhandedly brags about things on LiveJournal?
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I am a monster and never knew it. I have been imprisoning my eyes behind plastic walls, starving them, denying them water, and suffocating them until they began to die. Or so says my optometrist. Apparently for years I have been wearing the wrong kinds of contacts, wearing them for too long, and not using eyedrops when I should. Balls.
So I got a new pair of contacts, a new pair of glasses so I can wear them more often and still be awesome, and a new pack of eyedrops that I am supposed to use daily. And I found out some pretty nifty stuff:
Eyefacts:
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Now that we are no longer in poverty, everything costs more. The cost of birth control, which was once free, then $20 a month, has now increased in price 300%. I finally broke down and bought health insurance, as the savings on this alone will subsidize about a quarter of the price. Hopefully I will not be hit by a bus between now and April Fools' Day.
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Once I looked down upon meatloaf. The food of the lumpenproleteriat, I thought to myself. The food of Nascar and of Wal-mart, the food of those who care nothing for the subtleties of life and merely wish to consume the greatest amount, regardless of quality.
How elitist. Meatloaf is actually pretty tasty. What else am I wrong about even now?
_______________________________________________________________________________
I am a monster and never knew it. I have been imprisoning my eyes behind plastic walls, starving them, denying them water, and suffocating them until they began to die. Or so says my optometrist. Apparently for years I have been wearing the wrong kinds of contacts, wearing them for too long, and not using eyedrops when I should. Balls.
So I got a new pair of contacts, a new pair of glasses so I can wear them more often and still be awesome, and a new pack of eyedrops that I am supposed to use daily. And I found out some pretty nifty stuff:
Eyefacts:
- I have what is known as "dry-eye"--my medial tear ducts do not produce enough tears when I blink. There is no cure.
- Thinner contact lenses, though in theory designed to let more oxygen permeate, actually are more prone to adhere to the eye and therefore let less oxygen reach the cornea.
- I have what is known as a "retinal negus", a spot of melanin on the retina. That's right, I have a freckle on the inside of my eyeball. It is about the size of my optic nerve, which, as the doctor said, "we generally consider pretty large."
_________________________________________________________________________
Now that we are no longer in poverty, everything costs more. The cost of birth control, which was once free, then $20 a month, has now increased in price 300%. I finally broke down and bought health insurance, as the savings on this alone will subsidize about a quarter of the price. Hopefully I will not be hit by a bus between now and April Fools' Day.
__________________________________________________________________________
Once I looked down upon meatloaf. The food of the lumpenproleteriat, I thought to myself. The food of Nascar and of Wal-mart, the food of those who care nothing for the subtleties of life and merely wish to consume the greatest amount, regardless of quality.
How elitist. Meatloaf is actually pretty tasty. What else am I wrong about even now?