According to some, I’ve lead a semi-charmed life. And I’m sure compared to others, that’s true.
But lemme tell you something. I cry at the drop of a hat. I cry when I’m sad, when I’m angry, when someone else is crying, when I’m happy, when I stump my toe. I’ve cried like no other for the past week. I told Johnny I understand now why depressed people have a hard time. I’m fully aware of how ridiculous I sound, I don’t have problems. I have options. But you get on a crying jag, your eyes swell, it wears you down, you can’t concentrate, your head pounds, & then there you are. The next day, you aim to feel better & more at peace, but you’re still all screwed up from the previous day. It’s a vicious cycle! I’m so glad I didn’t have a lot to cry about because I would have never dug my way out from that black hole.
So today, I wanted to use up my HSA money before I lose it. Don’t judge, you’d do the same thing.
I’ve been meaning to get to the eye doctor, but that’s about as much fun as laying on an anthill while eating a popsicle & letting whatever happens happen. But I forced myself to go. And to be fair, my optometrist is pretty rockin’. She tells me I have a beautiful optic nerve & to drink gin to cure my eye twitch. And my oh-so-trendy Tiffany frames have been beat up for awhile. Off I go.
Turns out the office got brand spanking new equipment last night. So I got to be their first victim. Better me than some little kid or old geezer who can’t hear it thunder, I say.
Of course nothing wants to run smoothly. No big deal, I can be patient. Don’t laugh, it’s true!! So we did the new digital exam, which is not nearly as cool looking as the prehistoric Terminator machine with all the lenses & knobs. Then she goes to look at my spectacular nerve.
“Everything looks great, let me just take a peek at the left eye, look at my ear.” She’s wearing pearls.
“Are you sure I can’t dilate you?”
“Positive.” I answer immediately, again, for the third time. It screws me up BIG TIME. I LOATHE it.
“You’ve got a vessel leaking & I really would feel better if you’d let me check it.” Then she starts grilling me about my blood pressure…which I feel rising.
“Fine, fine! Do it! But I’m holding you responsible for all my actions today!”
She agrees and takes a big hit of her essential oil lavender necklace. She must have been really worried. So they dilate me, & I sit there with these stupid drops mixed with tears running down my face. I hate eyedrops, have I mentioned? Almost as bad as the hiccups. My eyeliner, I am pleased to report, stays intact.
So here we go with the bright light & the pale earrings again.
“Ummmm…could this have been brought on by strain?” I ask.
“Sure, like stress? Or like, you read the Bible in a week?”
“Like, I cried my eyes out for two days last week & it’s been coming intermittently ever since?”
“Sure. I’ve got a pregnant patient & one of hers burst because she threw up so hard.”
Hmm. So she takes a good long look, determines it’s a smaller vessel that’s running on top of a big plump one, & she’s no longer worried. But I have explicit instructions to skedaddle back if I have any problems.
Then she sends me on my way to pick out new frames.
This is always loads of fun. I’m already blind & now I’m dilated, too.
I get the new chick at Lens Crafters, not my preferred lady. This one doesn’t QUITE know what to make of me.
I eventually settle on three pairs & age narrows it down for me, picking almost the exact same ones I already have. Fine by me. I’ve got enough going on with changing my hair & changing jobs. My sunglasses will have to be ordered. Lovely. I go to pay, & have the exact amount screenshot from my phone this morning of my HSA account balance.
“It says do not honor card,” Miss Priss informs me.
I’m astounded.
“I can try it again manually,” she says meekly.
“Yeah, you do that.” I watch. The whole amount is more than what’s in the account.
“Hang on,” I say, & point.
She backs up & punches the numbers from the card in. Decline.
“I’ll call them,” I say through gritted teeth. “I ain’t quit yet.”
I listen patiently to the menu. It confirms what I already know as the money goes. I press five for a representative. I get the perkiest person on the planet. I explain my situation. I confirm my identity.
Then she says, “you’re gonna think this is cray, but the interest hasn’t posted. Try it for two cents less.”
I relay the info. I keep Perky Pants on the line until it miraculously goes through.
And that’s the story of how I didn’t get my two cents worth.
I decide to take my internet purchased shoes back to Dillard’s. However, East Towne no longer has a Dillard’s. So off I go to West Town. I return the shoes, explaining about my odd looking black holes for eyes & while drooling over ten more pairs. Saleslady was sympathetic, but she probably wasn’t buying it & thought I needed drug money. I wind my way through the mall, making a few purchases. I can’t operate the stupid signature pads, I couldn’t see them plainly, & I had no cash. I train wreck, I was. Then I realize it’s past two o’clock & I still haven’t eaten lunch, & that’s not helping matters, so I make my way to the food court.
My phone dings, my glasses are ready. Of course, the one time I’m enjoying myself, they hurry & get them done quick fast & in a hurry. Last time I got there & they didn’t pass inspection so I was stuck for like three hours. Food first.
The usual suspects: Chick-fil-a. Japanese. Taco Bell.
Chipotle.
Hmm. Chipotle. I’ve never eaten there, but people talk about it like it’s all the rage. Why not? So I did. They give you lots of choices! And it was pretty good. So √
In the meantime, I had received a second text that my glasses were done. Hold your horses! I get back to the mall. My good friend Nancy text me to move my car somewhere under cover because Sevierville was fixing to get hammered. I shoot her back that it’s cute she thinks I should protect 16 year old Patsy from something so insignificant as frozen rain. 😀 Like a rock, the ads used to claim.
It took chick NINE TRIES to get me adjusted. My eyelashes kept hitting on the left lens. I think she was fixing to tell me my head was lopsided. I’m picky about crap I wear all day long, every day. Oh, & good news, my sunglasses were in, they didn’t have to be ordered.
I go to Sam’s. Like to have NEVER located the massive bag of bacon bits.
Now I’m home, relaxing. I think my eyes are back to normal, but please excuse any & all mistakes. Or blame my doctor.