Monday, March 15 2010
It rained most of the day, making an errand-rich trip I made into Uptown slightly miserable. I had to pick up my new prescription glasses, soy mile, and some silent auction winnings Gretchen had won at a recent Fur Ball, an annual fundraiser for the local chapter of the ASPCA. I'd been given somewhat imprecise directions to find the headquarters of the local Fur Ball operation, and I almost gave up but then I saw an eight-inch-wide dog paw print stencil in a window. Among other things, Gretchen had won ten bottles of wine. This coincided perfectly with the running-dry of our household wine cellar. Unless we have friends over, we (as a couple) never drink wine at home, but we go to enough parties to deplete our supply, since it's customary to bring a bottle of wine when one goes to a party.
My new glasses correct for an astigmatism that had made everything look somewhat wider than it actually was. My glasses corrected for this by making things look both slightly smaller and slightly narrower. It was a small correction, but the brain is a sensitive organ, and it interpreted these changes as several inches having been added to my height. I felt like I towered over the parking lot as I headed from the optician's office back to my car.
It bears mentioning that the optician hadn't given me any paperwork about my eyesight or my prescription, choosing to hold onto this information as if it were still 1973 and professionals could still maintain the asymmetry of their knowledge visa-vis that of their clients. But knowledge is power, and I'd paid for that information, so I was sure to tell Gretchen to ask for our prescriptions when she goes in to pick up her glasses.
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