I've been unhappy about my visual status for some time. The most recent pair of glasses has been around for about 3 years, and I've pretty much disliked them since I got them. Why on earth would you buy expensive glasses that you don't like? you may ask (notice how freely I speak for my reader(s) - it's largely to distract from my constant stream-of-consciousness whining - is it working?). Well, it's because I can never see what they look like, being one step short of bat-level vision. Admittedly there were a few times when I was wearing contacts that I could see what glasses looked like, but hey, I was wearing contacts and I didn't care what my glasses looked like, so they don't count.
Factor in some recent degradation of prescription accuracy, and you have just the right conditions for eye fatigue, neck fatigue (whose idea was it to put the closeup part of progressive lenses at the bottom - do you know what that makes you do when you work on the computer? which leads me to think it was chiropractors that came up with the evil plan [please don't feel that you need to trouble me at this point with the unassailable logic of assigning the bottom portion of the lens as the closeup portion; I understand that it is perfectly reasonable and right and just but I'm ranting here and ranting is incompatible with such a rational response], and general visual and emotional malaise.
The logical response would be to go and get new glasses. I know that in my head. But it took about 6 months of the above-mentioned discomfort to actually be driven enough to go to the trouble of finding the acceptable provider for the vision insurance that came with DH's latest employment excursion, making an appointment when I would actually have a vehicle in order to get there (not as easy as it sounds in a household of 4 people, 3 cars, and 3 jobs), and the intestinal fortitude to pick out yet another pair of frames without really knowing what they were going to look like. That last one was the real deterrent to action. But finally I reached critical-phase desperation, and yesterday I drove my absent-due-to-dream-vacation-slash-second-date-daughter's* car to VisionWorks and took the plunge.
Exam, yadda yadda slight changes to prescription yadda yadda and then the moment I was dreading - pick new frames out of acres of frames that all somehow look alike when resting on the fake plastic noses of the display case, but ranging in varying degrees of awfulness when resting on my nose - clearly visible awfulness even without the proper visual correction that is somehow needed to identify stylistic success. There were a couple of times that I quailed from trying any more at all and just fleeing the building til I could find a trusted family member to come with me and give me thumbs up or thumbs down (not that that method worked so well with the previous pair, thanks honey, 'preciate the help). Finally out of desperation I grabbed the handful of frames I'd found possible and demanded the young man at the counter give me his opinion (this is hard for an introverted perfectionist, trust me). I was a little surprised - the first couple he vetoed in no uncertain manner. That gave me hope - at least he had opinions and wasn't afraid to voice them. We worked through the assortment and I settled on a comfortable pair. Whew! right? Well, yes and no. Because in the exam room I had had the perfectly AWESOME idea of getting a second pair for exclusive computer use - single vision geared for that fairly specific distance at my desk.
I have to say that at this juncture, I was not particularly pleased with myself for my creative thinking. But I soldiered on and eventually settled on a nice pair that incorporated something I don't usually get to include in a frame decision - skinny lenses (no progressive lens demand for depth) in a snazzy brownish-coppery metal.
Then I prepared to wait for Phase II. Y'know, where the glasses finally come in after ten days of waiting/anticipation/dread and I find out whether it was a good idea or a bad idea to listen to whomever told me they looked "just great." Only by some strange twist of fate, they had the lenses in stock, and I got both pair by the end of the afternoon.
So here I sit in my snazzy new computer glasses, trying to adjust to the fact that I can actually look down and see (and also noticing that my defense mechanism of sitting wayyyyy back in my chair to give my neck a rest now takes me out of the proper range and makes everything fuzzy, LOL). My new all-purpose glasses are on the shelf waiting for their spell of duty; my young frame-selecting assistant having proved to be a competent and reliable consultant. It's enough to make me take a second look at that mental list of distasteful tasks I've been procrastinating and see if lightening can strike twice...