I got a letter through the door the other day, the type that everyone dreads receiving. A letter telling me it was time for my eye examination.
It’s hard to believe that it’s already been two years since I sat in the chair with the ridiculous goggles on and read all the alphabet combinations known to man.
I dread my eye test, it seems that every time I go, my eye sight has deteriorated further and I need a new pair of glasses – and sunglasses for the car of course.
I booked an appointment, then promptly forgot all about it and had a phone call from an irate receptionist, giving me a row for taking up a space someone else could have used.
Forget my eyes, it’s my memory I’ve got real concerns over.
So, I rearranged my appointment and left notes all over the house to remind me not to miss it.
Last week I trudged along to the opticians for my turn in the chair and, of course, my eye sight had got worse and I needed new lenses.
And if you are getting new lenses, then you may as well get a new pair of glasses.
I took Emma and the kids along with me to the opticians to help me select a pair.
What is it about trying on glasses that turns everyone into a child?
We were all picking up the silliest pairs we could find, from the big Deirdre Barlow style numbers to the cool hipster specs that men with beards and skinny jeans seem to navigate to.
I wish I suited some of the more trendy styles, but I’m just too old now to pull them off so I went for a pair almost identical to my old ones, but with gold frames instead of bronze.
The shop had a deal on, if you buy glasses, you could get a free trial of contact lenses.
I have funny shaped eyes and have tried contacts over the years, but I need the hard ones and I’ve struggled to get used to them.
With advances in technology, now I can wear the soft ones so I decided to give them a try.
I got lots of nice compliments on my eyes and colleagues telling my I suited no glasses but I have no idea how people can ever wear these things. It’s like torture to your eyeballs.
After three days of tears streaming down my face and more swear words that I care to reveal, I threw the rest of the free trial in the bin,
They say beauty is pain, but my pain threshold means I’m destined to stay ugly!