It’s been around 14 years since my last eye test and after much “umm”ing and “ahh”ing, Karl and I decided it was probably about time I got off my lazy arse and went to the opticians. I figured that working and playing with computers for up to 14 hours a day probably hasn’t done them much good and so we booked us both an appointment.
The check-up and testing was painless. I felt incredibly claustrophobic when the chap got right in my face with his little green light — I don’t “do” people in my personal space — and was somewhat embarrassed by the fact that I couldn’t read the bottom row of his letters, but it turns out that’s because I’m short-sighted.
After much discussion on how the hell I’m going to get used to glasses and why Lord did you have to inflict this on my poor face (I’m a drama queen, what can I say?) I’ve picked out some dainty frames with a free tinted pair for the summer… if it ever arrives in Britain. Karl kindly informed me as I tediously made my choice: “those follow your eyebrows really well dear”. Thanks love, nothing like making me feel better, eh?