![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
So last night, "American Gods" was starting to freak me out (I should finish it today) so I made the executive decision to stop reading and go to sleep before I gave myself nightmares.
So, I shut the book, put it on the nightstand and laid my glasses on top of the book, checked my alarm and turned out the light.
I must have had a bad dream anyway because at some point in the night I knocked several things off the nightstand. When I woke up this morning "American Gods" was halfway across the room on the floor... and my glasses were nowhere to be found.
Let me explain something to you because I know that you will understand: I am freaking blind. I'm not a bit near-sighted or suffer from a touch of astigmatism. I am blind as a bat. I do not see the big letter "E" at the optometrist. I cannot read normal size text when it is more than 4 inches from my face. I am hugely myopic and you guys get this because you are as well. In fact - some of you probably have worse eyesight than I do and together we form a club of people that will get the panic that sets in when you wake up and realize that: 1. Your glasses are not where you left them. 2. You are totally out of contacts. 3. You have no idea where your emergency Old-Ass glasses are. and most importantly:4. HOW THE HELL ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO FIND YOUR GLASSES??
If you are lucky enough to live with people - you can always call them in to help look for the glasses. If you are *really* lucky they won't make fun of you when you call crying from a location on the floor "I've lost my glasses!" and they walk into the room and from the *door* point and say "They are three feet to your left." Cause it isn't as if you couldn't find your glasses because you are dumb. You don't realize they are three feet to your left because you can't fucking see and this is something you normally have under control.
I live with Sid. Sid is useless in this situation. I am on my hands and knees on the wood floor patting around carefully for my glasses (which are kind of the same color as the floor and small framed to boot and just... I was so screwed) and I kept saying "Find my glasses Sid! Where are my glasses!" and he'd come running up with everything in the world that was NOT my glasses. He brought me toys and his leash and a pair of socks. He acted like he did not know what my glasses even where, so tonight we have to have a long talk. I worry about his age and senility.
Finally, I decided to go across the street and wake The Boy as he is very useful in these kinds of situations. I find my sneakers (which were still out in the middle of the living room where I had left them cause I am SMART) and I did something I normally will never do willingly - I left the house blind. The last time I was anywhere in public voluntarily without my glasses was my brother's funeral cause I just didn't care about having any sort of clarity to that visual memory.
But I know my street and I can see the blobs that are houses and I can watch for the blobs that are cars and I can cross the gray area that I know is the street and eventually make it to Dawn's front door.
Except she was at work. Which is normal. But it was not yet 8:00 so I *knew* the boy was still around. So I knock on his door and hear the TV so I tell him it is me and open the door. Inspection of his room lets me know that the two people shaped blobs are his Tin Soldier and his Han Solo cut-out. There is a boy shaped blob on the mattress on the floor that I kicked (not hard!) but I think it was just a bunch of quilts.
The boy was at Band Camp.
So I find the phone and I try to call into work cause I have no *idea* what to do at this point. I decide I can call the eye doctor but I have no way of getting to her office other than take a cab and I am just plain broke. I think I might be able to track down Dawn at the hospital and maybe she can come and find my glasses but there is no way I can get to work like this.
Except I couldn't call into work because we have a specific number system to call and report an absence and I couldn't find where I kept those numbers without my glasses (I used to keep them in "Doomsday Book" but I haven't seen that book since I moved so I think the new set is probably in the roll top desk somewhere). And no one is yet in the office.
So I go back to my room and start kind of rolling around on the floor, hoping I'll find the glasses that way and *not* crush them when I roll into my dresser and hit the leg with my head. So I open my eyes and I am 2 inches from the leg and right beside it I see a small brownish stem. And I reach over and *under* the dresser and behind the leg (this is why I missed it when I patted under the dresser the first time) are my glasses.
And I must have *hurled* them in my sleep cause the lenses are kinda scratched. But I have them. I can see. This is good.
So I get ready for work and I am in a hurry and suddenly I can't find anything to wear and I am bloated and crampy so you know - not a great day anyway and I get into my car and I drive to work and I get a speeding ticket.
I do not normally speed. Just like I do not normally flail about in the night. I *know* that a cop sits on Richmond Road before Chinoe every morning. I pass him every morning. Sometimes I wave. I am *glad* he is there because normally all the speeding in that area irritates me because I *live* there. I believe in traffic rules and enforcement - I respect the rules of the roadway.
But - for some reason, play my crack vid song and my foot presses down and I have to *GO* and my car... my car will *GO* if I tell it to go. And I saw the police car but I was thinking about the song and the police car fit perfectly *into* what I was thinking about so I didn't even slow down when I passed him.
And he felt terrible giving me a ticket but he had too - I was FLYING. And I knew he felt terrible and he kept apologizing and I kept telling him that he was just doing his job and he was all commenting on how I don't have any violations in what he pulled up and he took off about 15 mph from what I was really doing and I could go to traffic school. I will go to traffic school, obviously I need to go, because as SOON as I got onto New Circle Road and started listening to that damned song again - I looked down and realized I was going over 80 miles per hour.
So, maybe I shouldn't drive and listen to that song anymore?
But - so I am here at work and some other stuff happened that was not pleasant but you know... you how a day can be so bad it starts to be good? I don't know how to explain it but... okay - I had what you could charitably call an "awkward adolescence." Think "Welcome to the Dollhouse" but with worse hair and fashion sense. You would be close. Okay - so the pictures of me from this era... well someone once remarked to me that I was so ugly that I was cute. It is like I surpassed all measures of ugly and was so fully ugly that I lapped the track and was headed back into adorable.
Which, actually sounds really bad now that I am telling you this but I did find it tremendously comforting at the time. And I was so ugly I was cute. In a really strange way.
Today is like that. It has been so impossible and so bad - that it is almost a good day. I should buy a lotto ticket. I've already rescheduled my student loan payments today (man -all you have to do is make your payments on time and talk to these dudes politely and they will bend over *backwards* to help you. I wish someone had told me this when I first graduated from college. They are not to be feared - they can be your best friends!) and I am getting ready to call my eye doctor at lunch time.
But still - I think this weekend I am gonna go home to Mom. Cause she always helps me look for my glasses.
So, I shut the book, put it on the nightstand and laid my glasses on top of the book, checked my alarm and turned out the light.
I must have had a bad dream anyway because at some point in the night I knocked several things off the nightstand. When I woke up this morning "American Gods" was halfway across the room on the floor... and my glasses were nowhere to be found.
Let me explain something to you because I know that you will understand: I am freaking blind. I'm not a bit near-sighted or suffer from a touch of astigmatism. I am blind as a bat. I do not see the big letter "E" at the optometrist. I cannot read normal size text when it is more than 4 inches from my face. I am hugely myopic and you guys get this because you are as well. In fact - some of you probably have worse eyesight than I do and together we form a club of people that will get the panic that sets in when you wake up and realize that: 1. Your glasses are not where you left them. 2. You are totally out of contacts. 3. You have no idea where your emergency Old-Ass glasses are. and most importantly:4. HOW THE HELL ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO FIND YOUR GLASSES??
If you are lucky enough to live with people - you can always call them in to help look for the glasses. If you are *really* lucky they won't make fun of you when you call crying from a location on the floor "I've lost my glasses!" and they walk into the room and from the *door* point and say "They are three feet to your left." Cause it isn't as if you couldn't find your glasses because you are dumb. You don't realize they are three feet to your left because you can't fucking see and this is something you normally have under control.
I live with Sid. Sid is useless in this situation. I am on my hands and knees on the wood floor patting around carefully for my glasses (which are kind of the same color as the floor and small framed to boot and just... I was so screwed) and I kept saying "Find my glasses Sid! Where are my glasses!" and he'd come running up with everything in the world that was NOT my glasses. He brought me toys and his leash and a pair of socks. He acted like he did not know what my glasses even where, so tonight we have to have a long talk. I worry about his age and senility.
Finally, I decided to go across the street and wake The Boy as he is very useful in these kinds of situations. I find my sneakers (which were still out in the middle of the living room where I had left them cause I am SMART) and I did something I normally will never do willingly - I left the house blind. The last time I was anywhere in public voluntarily without my glasses was my brother's funeral cause I just didn't care about having any sort of clarity to that visual memory.
But I know my street and I can see the blobs that are houses and I can watch for the blobs that are cars and I can cross the gray area that I know is the street and eventually make it to Dawn's front door.
Except she was at work. Which is normal. But it was not yet 8:00 so I *knew* the boy was still around. So I knock on his door and hear the TV so I tell him it is me and open the door. Inspection of his room lets me know that the two people shaped blobs are his Tin Soldier and his Han Solo cut-out. There is a boy shaped blob on the mattress on the floor that I kicked (not hard!) but I think it was just a bunch of quilts.
The boy was at Band Camp.
So I find the phone and I try to call into work cause I have no *idea* what to do at this point. I decide I can call the eye doctor but I have no way of getting to her office other than take a cab and I am just plain broke. I think I might be able to track down Dawn at the hospital and maybe she can come and find my glasses but there is no way I can get to work like this.
Except I couldn't call into work because we have a specific number system to call and report an absence and I couldn't find where I kept those numbers without my glasses (I used to keep them in "Doomsday Book" but I haven't seen that book since I moved so I think the new set is probably in the roll top desk somewhere). And no one is yet in the office.
So I go back to my room and start kind of rolling around on the floor, hoping I'll find the glasses that way and *not* crush them when I roll into my dresser and hit the leg with my head. So I open my eyes and I am 2 inches from the leg and right beside it I see a small brownish stem. And I reach over and *under* the dresser and behind the leg (this is why I missed it when I patted under the dresser the first time) are my glasses.
And I must have *hurled* them in my sleep cause the lenses are kinda scratched. But I have them. I can see. This is good.
So I get ready for work and I am in a hurry and suddenly I can't find anything to wear and I am bloated and crampy so you know - not a great day anyway and I get into my car and I drive to work and I get a speeding ticket.
I do not normally speed. Just like I do not normally flail about in the night. I *know* that a cop sits on Richmond Road before Chinoe every morning. I pass him every morning. Sometimes I wave. I am *glad* he is there because normally all the speeding in that area irritates me because I *live* there. I believe in traffic rules and enforcement - I respect the rules of the roadway.
But - for some reason, play my crack vid song and my foot presses down and I have to *GO* and my car... my car will *GO* if I tell it to go. And I saw the police car but I was thinking about the song and the police car fit perfectly *into* what I was thinking about so I didn't even slow down when I passed him.
And he felt terrible giving me a ticket but he had too - I was FLYING. And I knew he felt terrible and he kept apologizing and I kept telling him that he was just doing his job and he was all commenting on how I don't have any violations in what he pulled up and he took off about 15 mph from what I was really doing and I could go to traffic school. I will go to traffic school, obviously I need to go, because as SOON as I got onto New Circle Road and started listening to that damned song again - I looked down and realized I was going over 80 miles per hour.
So, maybe I shouldn't drive and listen to that song anymore?
But - so I am here at work and some other stuff happened that was not pleasant but you know... you how a day can be so bad it starts to be good? I don't know how to explain it but... okay - I had what you could charitably call an "awkward adolescence." Think "Welcome to the Dollhouse" but with worse hair and fashion sense. You would be close. Okay - so the pictures of me from this era... well someone once remarked to me that I was so ugly that I was cute. It is like I surpassed all measures of ugly and was so fully ugly that I lapped the track and was headed back into adorable.
Which, actually sounds really bad now that I am telling you this but I did find it tremendously comforting at the time. And I was so ugly I was cute. In a really strange way.
Today is like that. It has been so impossible and so bad - that it is almost a good day. I should buy a lotto ticket. I've already rescheduled my student loan payments today (man -all you have to do is make your payments on time and talk to these dudes politely and they will bend over *backwards* to help you. I wish someone had told me this when I first graduated from college. They are not to be feared - they can be your best friends!) and I am getting ready to call my eye doctor at lunch time.
But still - I think this weekend I am gonna go home to Mom. Cause she always helps me look for my glasses.
