I have been sitting on the sofa all afternoon with a (shameless plug) hotsy-coldsy bag on my left eye. You might think a lot of things about how this came to be, but I will just tell you straight away: It was my own stupid fault.
Really, it was.
I put the contact in my left eye this morning, and it felt uncomfortable, and instead of just taking it right back out of my eye and giving it a good old rinse-off, I left it there. Uncomfortable became more uncomfortable became sting-y became scratchy became white-knuckled pain. And by that time? I was not at home. In fact, I was at an outdoor picnic in the bright! blazing! sunshine! Completely useless tears were pouring down the left side of my face.
A person with more sense and a less horrible prescription would have removed her contact before it got this far. But NOT ME! I am a stick-er-out-er. That dead horse over there? Yep, that was me, and I have the souvenir beater stick to prove it.
I do this sticking-it-out-keep-on-trying thing all of the time. The Mister will verify this for you. It’s not pretty, and it’s not rational. But I persist. I make mistakes and I try to fix and fix and fix and all I accomplish in the end is epic levels of awkward and ick. I notice something heading south (no offense, Southerners) and I figure it will rectify itself as if things actually do that on their own. It’s a whole other kind of awesome that leaves a spectacular pit in my stomach, or a spectacular pit in my eyeball, as is the case today. Just keep blinking, just keep blinking, just keep blinking…
So I ask you: how do you learn to stop, to put on the brakes and to lay down the beater stick? And do any of you suffer from this same bout of nonsense as me?