So yesterday was a lazy Sunday. I got up kinda late, brushed my teeth, put in my contacts, got dressed, went out for a greasy breakfast at Dunn’s Deli on Elgin Street, and then came home and had a nap.
Four hours later, I got up to do some work. I have lots of work to do. Just like you, I’m sure. I swung my legs out of bed, reached over and put my glasses on, and headed downstairs to get some dinner. After all, I’d been sleeping for four hours with only a huge plate of bacon, eggs, sausage, hash browns and toast to sustain me.
When I got downstairs, I felt a strange sensation: I couldn’t focus. My eyes just weren’t doing their regular focusing stuff. I had to really work to get them to put what I was looking at into sharp detail.
I tried not to panic. I’m not prone to hypochondria, but having just turned thirty, I’m ready for my body to tank on me at any moment. All evening, working in front of the computer, I had to constantly refocus on the screen, my notes… everything. I was getting a headache and my eyes seemed really dry.
Just before bed, I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I took off my glasses and put them on the sink. Looking into the mirror, I realized that suddenly, I could see perfectly.
I had my contact lenses on the whole time.
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