Yawn…Wake up in the morning reaching for my glasses on the nightstand. I can’t see where they are and I’m not entirely convinced that Its because I’m blind as a bat or the fact that my nightstand is participating in it’s own dirty game of camouflage with me. As I twiddle my fingers across the surface to find my vision goggles, I knock them clear off the surface and they land in the fluffy carpet… Submerged. Between a dresser and a soft place. Across the room. God bless it… Really? Now I’m forced to brave my morning -pre coffee- without my nerd gear. With the sight of a bat. This is going to be fun. How many times have I pondered what it would be like to get LASIK and have the vision of an angel. Can you hear them singing? I don’t. Stupid angels. I could get that done but I don’t. I’m too chicken. It’s my eye sight for fucks sake. So much can go wrong. But, then a gain, here I am using brail with my carpet trying to get that location on my current visual amendment.
Fine, I’ll throw in my contacts. I won’t have to dweeb myself into a trekkie social abyss with my specs today. I’m actually don’t have any real issues with wearing my glasses. I’ve been stone blind since I was in third grade. My own parents would amuse themselves by putting tape in the middle of my eye glasses and act like there was an emergency, with which, I would need my circular frames to witness said apocalypse. I’d throw them on in a tizzy and enter the room and my whole family would just laugh… and laugh… and laugh. Sounds abusive. But, I tell you what, it built my character and when I was teased in school I didn’t give a damn. Four eyes. Yep, I can see double the amount you can dummy. Suck off. Erkell. Yup. Wasn’t he supposed to be a genius? Right. What else you got? Nothing? Ah, shocker. Add to it I had the haircut of a boy for my entire childhood. I was a little kids’ teaser feature film. Ask me if I give a raging peanut that you’re going to continue to make fun of me. Right. I thought so. Bye, thanks for playing.
My contact lenses aren’t proving to be that much better a remedy today. I cleaned them last night before plopping the lenses into their respective casing yet somehow I’m feeling a twinge of death in my left eye. My goodness! What is that? A sand spur? In my eye? A grit of pebbles? I take them out and rinse them multiple times. Like a doctor cleans his hands incessantly for half an hour. Still pangs with a burning sensation now. What in goats milk is going on here? So, I open a new pack… maybe they’re time is up on this earth. Ah… finally. Success. Nope. Something still isn’t right.
I sit around in defeat for a while until finally acknowledging what I need to do here… So, I get up. Slowly, sigh as I hear the music of death play in the background. And I put my glasses back on. Dammit. Time to brave the day. Where the hell is my coffee…