Under the weather. That's me! Sick! Fecking head cold arrives fecking days before my much anticipated spring fishing trip. Even though I felt like crap on a stick yesterday I went to work because we're extremely short-staffed at the moment and they needed me and all my mucousy magic.
I felt crappy but was getting the work done as per usual, thanks to some snot-stifling Daytime Tylenol Cold, guaranteed to be non-drowsy. All was good until about 3:30 p.m. when I realized I had been sleeping at my desk for an unknown quantity of time. Seriously. Soundly sleeping. There was drool on my desktop. I woke myself up when I started to snore.
Under, over, under, feck. I picked up my new glasses yesterday! YAY for new glasses! Ever since I had my cataracts removed I've been living with cheap dime store cheater-glasses. Can't read a bloody thing without 'em. A couple weeks ago I went to the optometrist and got fitted for some proper bi-focals. Because, in case I haven't mentioned it before, I'M FECKING OLD.
I figured, since I would be wearing these new glasses 24/7, that I wouldn't cheap out on them. Cheap - HA! These glasses cost more than our car. (Our old winter beater car, by the way. You didn't think they were gold plated, did you?) They have progressive bi-focals so you can't see the line; they have a non-glare coating to make night driving easier; they go from dark in the sunlight to perfectly clear inside (my eyes are so much more sensitive to sunlight since the operation); and the frames themselves are frameless, state-of-the-art fecking ridiculously expensive Silhouette thingeys. These glasses are so cool that the lady at the optometrist office was fairly drooling when I came to pick them up. "Some day," she said, wiping the corner of her mouth, "I want a pair like that." For a moment I was hoping she was talking about my boobs. Then I remembered gravity. Fecking gravity. Fecking saggy underinflated boobs. Like birthday balloons six weeks after the birthday.
So these are fancy glasses. Fancy EXPENSIVE glasses. They slice, dice and julienne fries. But can I SEE through them? HA! If I hold my neck the right way. If I look UNDER them a little and then OVER them a lot. It seems like there is a tiny area that is perfect for reading and if I don't look through that exact pinprick of a point, everything is blurry. No, that's not true. It's not blurry, it's FECKING blurry.
Under the weather part deux. It's snowing this morning. Snow. Reeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaally. And, like Forrest Gump and his box of fecking chocolates, that's all I'm going to say about THAT.
