When I was in the first grade, I got my very first pair of glasses. All of my friends were jealous.
When I was in the seventh grade, I got my seventh pair of glasses. None of my friends were jealous.
Having bad vision is both a blessing and a curse. I am jealous of those that have the ability to just wake up in the morning and see. Meanwhile, I have to stumble around and bump into things, stubbing my toe as I walk, hands outstretched, to the bathroom where I put my contacts in. But at the same time, I wouldn’t trade it.
Not having 20/20 vision is like being in a club. It’s fun, because you don’t know who’s in it until the day their contacts betray them. As soon as you see someone that you’ve known for a while wearing glasses for the first time, you have to run up to them, exclaiming that you, too, have glasses.
It then becomes a slight competition; “What’s your vision? I bet mine’s worse. I can’t see anything.”
No one wants to have to wear contacts, but if you do, you want to at least win the worst vision contest. If you need them, it’s best to really need them.
“Oh, well, my vision is in the negatives, so I win.”
Then you try to continue beating them by seeing who has needed glasses the longest: “I’ve had glasses since elementary school.” “Oh, yeah? Well I got them in kindergarten.” “Please, I had to have them as a toddler.”
I’ve actually had glasses since I was in the womb, so I win. There are sonogram pictures; I can prove it.
Once the winner has been realized, you must trade glasses. It’s inevitable. “I bet I can see out of yours.” You will spend the next few minutes trying to read things, before the headache starts and you trade back.
Headaches are just a part of having bad vision. You get them for wearing your contacts too long. You get them from going too long without wearing your glasses and then trying to wear them for a whole day. You get them if it has been too long since you last saw the eye doctor. You just get headaches. It happens.
So do dry eyes. Dry eyes happen. There just comes a point in the day where your eyes are just like, nope. I’m done. I quit. I refuse to see anymore. And there is nothing you can do about it.
The worst is when you fall asleep with your contacts in. You wake up with a desert for eyes. Your contacts are glued to your eyeballs. You have to pry them out, if not have them surgically removed.
Wearing contacts is cool because you can be Superman by day, when you have to interact with people, and Clark Kent by night, when you come home and are free to be the four-eyed geek you really are.
If you want to feel smarter one day (you know, if you have a test you didn’t study for, you really could use all the help you can get), all you have to do is wear your glasses. Your IQ immediately goes up. It’s a proven fact. They’ve done studies.
People with perfect vision just can’t understand. They aren’t in the club. But one day, we’ll all be old and everyone will need glasses because all old people have glasses, it’s a requirement to be in the club (of cool people at the retirement home, not the club of being old, just if you want to sit at the cool table, you know, the one with the view of the water aerobics doing hottie you have your eye on). When that day comes, we will all join hand in unity with our glasses.
Until then, use whatever eyesight you have left to see the wonders of this world (or the water aerobics doing hottie).
