I needed new glasses desperately.
I like my new glasses very much, but I look like a hipster/schoolmarm in a graphic novel by R. Crumb or Alison Bechdel.
I can see myself again.
Although I was fascinated when I recently mistook a black iron fence for a human being, I didn’t particularly want to end up in Oliver Sacks’ The Man Who Mistook his Wife for a Hat. Everything blurry, pretending not to care, pretending I was an Impressionist painter, I knew I needed new glasses, but you know how it is: if you’re able to see at all, you’re too busy to go to the ophthalmologist/optometrist/optician or whomever you see.
And so I went to the “optical” guy.
And my vision has actually improved, so I needed new bifocals to reflect that.
When I picked out new frames, I held my old glasses up to get an idea what they looked like.
I didn’t know what they looked like until I picked them up.
It is amazing to be able to see again.
On a recent occasion, before I collected my new glasses, I picked up my purse upside down from a counter at the supermarket. Change, keys, and comb went flying. Several people went down on their hands and knees to help me pick things up . “Oh, a butterscotch candy,” I muttered in deep embarrassment. I felt like Mr. Magoo, or Ms. Magoo.
So you can see why I’m happy to have new glasses.
There’s just one thing. When I try to comment at blogs, I STILL can’t see those letters you have to type in first. You know what I mean: tiny print all running together, and you have to type it in twice or thrice till you get it right.
I thought I’d be able to look at it and get it right the first time with my new glasses.
Nope.
Nobody can.









