Jeez, I’m so sorry you guys. I thought today was Thursday so I didn’t write a Free Advice Friday post. Please don’t hate me. But if you do find yourself feeling pretty pissed, I have a Free Advice Friday post about anger management. So, um…here’s something else…

My visit to the optometrist

I went to the eye doctor on Monday…or was it yesterday? I swear the days all blend together. Hold on a sec, let me check what day I mentioned it on twitter, because that’s where I do most of my bitching. It’s my bitch diary.

Ok, according to my tweets, it was Wednesday.

Anyway, so I went to the eye doctor Wednesday and the assistant lady took me into this teeny tiny room. The room was like 3×5 and we were right on top of each other. I was just so damn grateful that I remembered to Fabreze myself before leaving the house.

*TIP – If you don’t have time to shower, Fabreze yourself…it’s not just for smelly couches anymore. Also, use Fabreze’s Active Sport line, because people who know anything about Fabreze will think you worked out.

She put a blood pressure cuff on my arm and asked me all sorts of non-eye related questions. She wanted to know: my height, my weight, any medications I took, if I might be pregnant “not that you look it! hahaha”. I was so confused, I screamed the date of my last menstrual cycle and started to disrobe for my pap smear. I figured we had just enough room if I put my legs up on the wall.

I think she was a little embarrassed for both of us because she wouldn’t make eye contact with me. Though maybe they don’t bother making eye contact because most people coming there can’t see?

Next, I was moved to a bigger and better room to wait for the eye doctor.

Can I just say, I hate the “Is 1 better or is 2? 2 or 3? 3 or 1?…better or worse or about the same?”

I’m convinced that when an optometrist asks “or about the same?” it’s code for, “I never changed the lens asshole, I just want to see if you’re full of bullshit and indecision”

Those damn vision tests are the most stressful tests I will ever take…and I’ve taken pregnancy tests. It’s a pretty big deal because if I screw it up, I’ll be running into poles for the next year.

After driving my optometrist crazy, by saying “can you do it again?” several thousand times, she escorted me to the frame lady.

Ah, the frame lady. I rely heavily on this woman. You see, I can’t see. When I’m trying on those frames, that are filled with plain glass and not my prescription, I can’t see myself clearly in the mirror. I depend on her to tell me if they look good, edgy but not too edgy, and if they compliment my face.

So when I saw that my frame lady was wearing Harry Potter glasses and a bad Christmas sweater, well, I just knew that I was better off closing my eyes and pointing to a pair on the wall. And so I did.

I bet I made a great uninformed choice. We’ll find out in 7-10 business days.

Afterwards, I headed out into the large parking lot where I failed to locate my SUV. I wandered around the lot for a while, a long while. At first, I was calm about the whole thing, it’s not like this hasn’t happened before. It wasn’t until minute 15 that the concern and fear really kicked in. But I kept searching…I kept the fire burning…for 2 more minutes.

Feeling tired and defeated, I rested my weary body on the bumper of the closest car. Not one to pass up a moment of vanity, I checked my hair in the reflection of the car next to me. Ugh, I could hardly see myself, the windows looked all gunked up from greasy little hands. And that’s when the realization occurred! Those greasy little hand prints were Ana’s.

Oh yeah, I drove Brian’s car to my eye doc appointment.

As soon as I got in his car I proceeded to post my ridiculousness on Facebook and Twitter because self-deprecation, in an attempt to make you laugh, is my ‘thing’. You’re welcome.