Three...Two...One...Contact!!

Some thing is wrong with my eye. I went to the eye Doctor. I paid $30 worth of co-pay for him to give me some eye drop samples. He looked at my eye, asked me if I had eaten anything strange or new in the last couple of days, and then told me to put drops in my eye twice a day. By the end of the day, my eye actually gets better. But for two mornings in a row, I’ve woken up, used the potty and looked in the mirror as I walk by, and gasp in horror. My eye seems to puff up like a French pastry over night. I can’t seem to figure out what is going on. I have several theories:

1. Carrot James read my post about her Door Opening Side Kick and has been beating me in my sleep.

2. I’m allergic to my pillow. I have had this pillow for three years. It’s my favorite pillow. I even travel with it. I sleep on my left side and it’s my left eye. I think that psychologically my body is punishing me for not getting enough sleep.

3. I’m allergic to Mondays. This started on Monday. Now I just need a Dr.’s note excusing me from working on Mondays. Perfect!

4. The insurance company found out that I had them billed for new glasses and contacts. In order to punish me for using my entire eye allowance, they had my contacts mutated to cause my left eye to swell if it’s closed for more then four hours. (I only had four hours of sleep on Saturday night, went to bed at 2:30am, got up at 6:30am.)

Whichever conspiracy theory is right, the bottom line is that I miss wearing my contacts. Don’t get me wrong, glasses aren’t bad…well… I remember in 4th grade when I got my first pair. I was convinced that they were awesome (my parent’s both were glasses) until I got to school Monday morning. Little kids are cruel; I don’t care if you go to a private Christian school or a public school in the ghetto. It took a couple of years, but by the time I turned 13, I had convince my parents to let me wear contacts. I have never went back… Until Monday. Monday I was forced to conform. Now life is seen with a rim around it. Looking up requires me to move my head, instead of just my eyes, otherwise I turn librarian and look over my glasses. My entire sense of balance is gone. I was turning around from the coffee maker yesterday morning and ran in to a co-worker. That was a little hard to explain. Glasses are supposed to make you see better, right? I experience glare from bright lights. And the smudges! Oh, the smudges! Will this never end? The life of a glasses wearer… it’s a hard one. Trust me.