dilation woes
May. 5th, 2004 01:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fearlesstempWhy do workplace restrooms always have the most horrendous lighting known to man? Every time I use one I'm tempted to just stay in there all day to spare the rest of the world the sight of my unkempt eyebrows and Magnum P.I. 'stache.
All of this is a long way of saying: Get thee to a phone to make an eyebrow waxing appointment, Jessica! And break out the Jolen's while you're on hold.
Ah, the plight of the pasty Irishwoman with super-dark hair. I know, it is so tragic. Someone should write an epic poem.
Yesterday I had an appointment to have my eyes checked. I go to these checkups infrequently enough that I forget just how horrific the experience is, which is good, because if I remembered I would never, ever go. This appointment was particularly unfun, since it was an appointment that was supposed to happen last week. I had to cancel after dragging my ass over to said eye appointment through rush-hour traffic because I somehow failed to realize that one needs to bring one's contact lenses to one's contact lens prescription check up. Glasses will not do. What was most disturbing about this was that immediately after realizing my mistake, I had a second, even more embarrassing realization that I had done the exact same thing two years ago.
I also had this awesome conversation with the receptionist lady, who was very nice in the face of my flakiness.
Receptionist Lady: So what kind of contacts do you wear?
Idiot Self: Two-week disposables.
RL: Right, okay, and what brand?
IS: Um….
RL: The name on the box?
IS: I was supposed to bring that box, right?
RL: Yeah, you kinda were.
IS: Oh. Sorry. Let's see…it's a white box? With…blue lettering?
RL: Hmm. And how long have you been wearing this brand?
IS: Hm. On and off? Twelve years.
That was fun. I then made second appointment for yesterday at 4:30, which meant I had to leave an hour early for work. I somehow managed to (a) completely forget to tell the office about this in the week between making the appointment and the actual appointment, and (b) oversleep so heinously that I ended up arriving to work almost twenty minutes late in spite of resorting to hair-drying-via-commuting-with-window-open method. So I had to go into work, apologize for being late, hand over last week's timecard (with two noted late arrivals) to be signed, and, while waiting for the timecard to be signed, inform them that I had to leave work early. This was also awesome.
As I continue to write this up, I kind of can't believe I don't do myself more damage in everyday life. To loosely quote Chandler's comment to Joey on Friends: How do I not fall down more? To this I say: I fall down quite regularly (the other day I came thisclose to face-planting on the stairs while racing up to the second floor to get something extremely vital and important – I think it was my comb. I caught myself on my hands at the last moment so I ended up just looking like I was doing some warped 45-degree pushup on the stairs), and am just lucky I don't injure myself more.
I also managed to reschedule my eye appointment for the only day this week that had something else going on – my very first golf lesson! My bud Jo and I are taking this four-week Golf for Dummies course, which started last night at seven, giving me only 2.5 hours between eye appointment and my arrival at the course's pro shop a half hour away. This is theoretically plenty of time, allowing me to get from one place to the other with a comfortable cushion of 30 minutes or so that I could spend grabbing something to eat on the way.
This is true, it was plenty of time for the actual journey. What it was not plenty of time for? My pupils – for 2.5 hours is definitely not enough time for those evil, evil eye- dilating eyedrops to wear off. And after my eyes being poked at and assaulted with drops and stressed out by demanding tests ("Lens 1 or 2? 1 or 2?? 1 OR 2?!?!"/"I DON'T KNOW!"), I couldn't even think of putting my contacts back in. And my glasses are fine (I can actually see a bit better with them), but! I do not have prescription sunglasses!
Which is how I ended up driving all over creation last night, blasting Philadelphia Freedom as loud as my little station wagon could, wearing two pairs of glasses, sunglasses over regular-prescription. Awesome, awesome look, especially since it allowed me to mime that great moment in Airplane with William Stack when I stopped at a light and realized Jo was in the car behind me. You know, the whole "My God" dramatic sunglasses-removal to reveal another pair sitting underneath? It was great, except for the fact that Jo had no idea what I was doing. It was fun for me, at least.
Posting without spell-checking or editing at all because lunch order I here! Pardon any and all lameness re: grammar, spelling, content. This is actually a warning that should be attached to all of my entries.
All of this is a long way of saying: Get thee to a phone to make an eyebrow waxing appointment, Jessica! And break out the Jolen's while you're on hold.
Ah, the plight of the pasty Irishwoman with super-dark hair. I know, it is so tragic. Someone should write an epic poem.
Yesterday I had an appointment to have my eyes checked. I go to these checkups infrequently enough that I forget just how horrific the experience is, which is good, because if I remembered I would never, ever go. This appointment was particularly unfun, since it was an appointment that was supposed to happen last week. I had to cancel after dragging my ass over to said eye appointment through rush-hour traffic because I somehow failed to realize that one needs to bring one's contact lenses to one's contact lens prescription check up. Glasses will not do. What was most disturbing about this was that immediately after realizing my mistake, I had a second, even more embarrassing realization that I had done the exact same thing two years ago.
I also had this awesome conversation with the receptionist lady, who was very nice in the face of my flakiness.
Receptionist Lady: So what kind of contacts do you wear?
Idiot Self: Two-week disposables.
RL: Right, okay, and what brand?
IS: Um….
RL: The name on the box?
IS: I was supposed to bring that box, right?
RL: Yeah, you kinda were.
IS: Oh. Sorry. Let's see…it's a white box? With…blue lettering?
RL: Hmm. And how long have you been wearing this brand?
IS: Hm. On and off? Twelve years.
That was fun. I then made second appointment for yesterday at 4:30, which meant I had to leave an hour early for work. I somehow managed to (a) completely forget to tell the office about this in the week between making the appointment and the actual appointment, and (b) oversleep so heinously that I ended up arriving to work almost twenty minutes late in spite of resorting to hair-drying-via-commuting-with-window-open method. So I had to go into work, apologize for being late, hand over last week's timecard (with two noted late arrivals) to be signed, and, while waiting for the timecard to be signed, inform them that I had to leave work early. This was also awesome.
As I continue to write this up, I kind of can't believe I don't do myself more damage in everyday life. To loosely quote Chandler's comment to Joey on Friends: How do I not fall down more? To this I say: I fall down quite regularly (the other day I came thisclose to face-planting on the stairs while racing up to the second floor to get something extremely vital and important – I think it was my comb. I caught myself on my hands at the last moment so I ended up just looking like I was doing some warped 45-degree pushup on the stairs), and am just lucky I don't injure myself more.
I also managed to reschedule my eye appointment for the only day this week that had something else going on – my very first golf lesson! My bud Jo and I are taking this four-week Golf for Dummies course, which started last night at seven, giving me only 2.5 hours between eye appointment and my arrival at the course's pro shop a half hour away. This is theoretically plenty of time, allowing me to get from one place to the other with a comfortable cushion of 30 minutes or so that I could spend grabbing something to eat on the way.
This is true, it was plenty of time for the actual journey. What it was not plenty of time for? My pupils – for 2.5 hours is definitely not enough time for those evil, evil eye- dilating eyedrops to wear off. And after my eyes being poked at and assaulted with drops and stressed out by demanding tests ("Lens 1 or 2? 1 or 2?? 1 OR 2?!?!"/"I DON'T KNOW!"), I couldn't even think of putting my contacts back in. And my glasses are fine (I can actually see a bit better with them), but! I do not have prescription sunglasses!
Which is how I ended up driving all over creation last night, blasting Philadelphia Freedom as loud as my little station wagon could, wearing two pairs of glasses, sunglasses over regular-prescription. Awesome, awesome look, especially since it allowed me to mime that great moment in Airplane with William Stack when I stopped at a light and realized Jo was in the car behind me. You know, the whole "My God" dramatic sunglasses-removal to reveal another pair sitting underneath? It was great, except for the fact that Jo had no idea what I was doing. It was fun for me, at least.
Posting without spell-checking or editing at all because lunch order I here! Pardon any and all lameness re: grammar, spelling, content. This is actually a warning that should be attached to all of my entries.
