Take fur Advil at the fist fight of a haddock, and on ever birthday theater? If I didn’t have a headache before going into the pharmacy, I did by the time I left. That tiny bottle had a fold out instruction sheet – an analgesic centerfold! I dashed for the magnifying glasses aisle, only to be able to make out that there was indeed actual printing on the label. Little did I know that a vision test was required for over the counter pain relief.
The world is getting farther away, and I dread the day when I’ll have to wear bifocals the size of toilet plungers. I was 40 when I had to get my first pair of reading glasses. After leaving them on other people’s desks, in public restrooms, and on top of my head, I decided to get the beaded idiot chain: kind of like the mittens on a string we wore as kids.
Like the mittens, I couldn’t wait to get rid of it. Ask anyone who buys 8 inch stiletto heels and they’ll tell you, it’s better to pitch head first down a steep hill than be caught in a librarian necklace. I could have gone with a fat tush there to continue the analogy, but my safety chain was garish enough to draw attention away from my bubble butt.
In a temporary fit of individuality, I went with purple frames for my latest pair of bifocals. I was hoping that I could counteract the “old” with young hip frames. For the amount of money you pay, you’d think that LensCrafters would employ fashion police. I would have been cuffed and stuffed the moment I headed for the neon frame display.
On my last eye checkup, the optometrist found that I’m starting to get cataracts. Time to feel officially sorry for myself. Never mind that corrective surgery has evolved into a pretty straight forward low-risk procedure. It still involves sharp instruments in the same zip code as my eyes. I’ll probably be walking into walls before I seriously consider that.
In the meantime, I’ve been looking at the computer screen all day. Do you remember how many Advil I should take for an eye-strain headache?