Eye hate you
I have tomorrow off, which would normally be heaven, especially with the holiday weekend approaching, but instead will involve having the following conversation for the third time in three months, as I have YET another eye exam to try to figure out why my contacts hate me:
Me: “I’m sorry, but you can’t touch my eye.”
Optometrist: [Tries to touch my eye]
Me, backing away quickly and using wild hand gestures for emphasis: “No, seriously! I cannot have anyone touch my eye. Only I can touch my eye. It’s like Excalibur that way.”
Optometrist, now annoyed: “Let me just place this contact on your eye.”
Me, panicking: “You can’t! I get violent when people try to touch my eye.”
Optometrist: [Touches my eye]
Me: [Punches optometrist in the throat]
I absolutely cannot stand it when people touch my eye. Gaaaah. I feel like punching someone in the throat just thinking about it. There’s no way I could ever have Lasik. Not if it involves being awake - they’d have to totally sedate me. You know, to avoid all the throat punching.
ANYway, our house party went great. We had over 30 people there and it was so much fun. We overestimated the amount of hot dogs we’d need and underestimated the amount of potato chips. Which is too bad, because I could go for some chips right now, and all we have to eat is seventeen thousmillion hot dogs.
I’m in a great mood today, even though I am typing this one-eyed. I had to remove my left contact because it was using its fingernails to claw itself off my eyeball. After doing so, I discovered I had forgotten my glasses at home.
I remembered the case for them though.
Would you like to touch my eye? I need to punch something.
