First of all, that may be the single worst pun title I’ve come up with for one of my posts yet. So let me offer my deepest apologies and sincere gratitude that you’ve even read this far.
Second, that title may be just a tad disingenuous. My eyes don’t hurt per se, but man do they feel like my lids weigh about six pounds each. I’ve been trying to get myself used to my funky contacts again — different prescriptions in each eye — and this is the longest sustained use of them I’ve had since I first got them and put them aside for my glasses many moons ago. Added to that is the fact that I’m still not quite recovered from the stupidly small amount of sleep I got Sunday night (or Monday morning, more accurately), and my eyes pretty much hate me right now.
But I’m trying to suck it up so my eyes adjust to this arrangement. And it’s out of pure vanity. I’ve just not been happy with the old guy in glasses look lately. I figure I’ve got plenty of time to look like some aging professor peering through his bifocals, so let’s experience some mild physical discomfort for the sake of appearances. And really, I paid good money for these contacts. I should do something more with them than having them take up space in the medicine cabinet.
I would like to stress that this does not — not, mind you — have even the slightest connection to having been recently complemented on my appearance by a member of the opposite sex, and I resent the implication that my motivations would ever be so base.