My Life is an Arthouse Flick
I was minding my own business, messing about on my computer, trying not to squint too hard at the screen lest it become frightened and attempt to flee, when the phone rang. I shrugged and went to answer it, something I don’t usually do during the day thanks to telemarketers. I was so glad I did.
“Hello! This is your optometrist calling! We have your vision!”
I was so excited I thanked the lady a little bit too profusely. We hung up after an awkward set of goodbyes and I flew off on wingèd feet to make myself at least a little bit presentable. I emailed the Man of the House to see if he’d like to meet up for lunch but was fobbed off with a flimsy “I’m very busy at work.” Pshaw! I learned the truth when I arrived in town only to discover it was hosing down. Bastard.
I picked up the glasses and mentally dismissed the receptionist’s warning that the new ones might be a little much to handle at first. It wasn’t long before I learned how right she was.
My right eye was much worse than my left eye. That’s fixed now. Have you ever been conscious of the sensation of sight? It’s a little uncomfortable, to tell the truth. Then I put my sunnies on. You know, just to test them out. I was delighted to realise that the brown tint renders everything in sepia tones like an old movie.
It’s like living in an arthouse theatre.
Oh, and one quick clarification for YoungBoobs. My old frames for my regular glasses are about 5 years old. I got them when we first moved over because the arm of the ones before them broke. The sunnies, however, had frames closer to 8 or 9 years old. Mikey was still in a pushchair when I got them, I remember that much.
Smartarse.
Tagged: random stuff.