Yesterday was the big day! No my selective service number did not come up. I'm getting to old for that kind of thing. No it was the day for the annual eye exam!
I must admit that this was prompted only by vanity. While getting X-mas pics at JCP the other day with two extremely uncooperative kids, I was perusing the adjacent optical salon and saw a frame that I liked. I have not had new glasses in five years, so, wanting to be avant-garde and stylish, I decided that now is the time to update.
So the exam was yesterday. I made sure that I arrived on time and picked up a magazine in the waiting room. It was some sort of girlie magazine (no not that kind!), Cosmo or something like that. I don't need any advice they had to offer, so I read Money magazine instead. I have one word for this publication: Yawn. Hedge funds! Tax brackets! Annuities! Retirement planning! Cash outlays! Maybe I should have read that article about my G-spot after all...
The highlight of the waiting room experience was looking down and seeing a cresent-shaped piece of crud nestled in my shirt. What in tarnation is that?, I thought, somewhat scared. It looked like a clipped fingernail that has somehow migrated north and stuck to my chemise. How's that for gross? Upon inspection, I found out that it actually was a dried-up Ramen noodle from lunch that fell and stuck to my shirt. Classy. I thought about eating it, but I decided that their has to be some sort of limit to my conduct in public.
It turns out that the inevitable has happened- I am going back to bifocals! It was only a matter of time, but as I told the doctor: "I don't understand why book publishers keep using a smaller and smaller font these days." It ain't the font unfortunately...
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