Today was day two of having slightly improved vision. After nearly two weeks of wondering why my eyelids always felt so heavy by the end of the work day, even though I knew I wasn't all that tired, I finally broke out my glasses and tried wearing them for a change. While I can usually pull out my glasses that help with my light sensitivity, I hadn't found them to be as effective lately. So I tried using my regular glasses, and voila! Clarity. My current specs aren't a perfect solution, because they're about eight years old, but they're better than nothing right now. I can actually make it through the day, and am even able to make a lot of progress on all the crap I have to do because I'm not fighting my fatigued eyeballs. Good thing I'm going to the eye doctor here soon.
It's weird wearing my normal glasses again. I'm generally used to only wearing sunglasses. And if the glasses I'm wearing aren't those, they're most likely my glasses with colored lenses that I use for my light sensitivity. It wasn't until I was at Pei Wei on Wednesday night that I realized that people could actually see my eyes through the lenses. There I was, in the midst of chewing a bite of delicious tofu, and sort of zoning out thanks to the sweet and sour meal I was enjoying, staring but not seeing in the general direction of the counter. Some lady was there, and after a few moments it dawned on me that, given her rather sour expression and her direct gaze (directed at me), she must have thought I was staring at her. Whatever she feared or hoped, I can't say.
For the most part, it's been nice to see more clearly for a change. It's only day two, but while driving around town today I unfortunately had to share the road with a gigantic diesel testosterone-fueled jet-engine wannabe ass-ugly souped up pick-up truck. Three foot tires, giant exhaust pipes placed right behind the cab and pointing skyward, and the word FORD plastered across the hood. As if the driver hasn't already proven that, despite his biological status as a male, he still has penis envy, there's one more item of bling on the ghastly thing: a pair of silver testicles hanging by a chain near the rear tires. That metallic ball sac is so tacky that I'm afraid of looking at it up close (especially with my glasses on), lest I go blind, turn into a pillar of salt, or else have my spirit eaten out of my very body like at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark.
The last time I saw one of those things on a big truck, which incidentally seems to be the only place you ever see them, I actually saw the driver of that particular truck. I'm not generally one to judge people, but I do make exceptions. I mean, when I see a sticker plastered proudly across a Chevy Silverado that proclaims, "Sucking Gas, Hauling Ass," you're asking for it.