I needed to find something to wear. I found something but it was so wrinkly I had to dampen it with a spray bottle and throw it in a low heat dryer for thirty minutes. It worked. I looked like hell. Of course my optometrist makes me feel like a rotting pile of hot garbage. Her nails are shiny, she’s railthin. Has a bulldog. And children. She’s quite attractive and my age. She took her husband’s last name. I was sweating profusely on my face and not in a good way. I try to imagine her sitting on the toilet and it’s hard to do. People like her don’t poop. One time a few years ago I saw her in a compromised position and ever since then, I’ve had slack jawed looks at her. Anyway, my eyes are tired and irritated, contacts are very expensive, and my right eye is having trouble reading close up. So, I’m old.
I actually found the ring she was wearing for decorative purposes kinda appealing. She seemed so clean and shiny. Nothing like my gray hair and puffy swollen face.
I had to get my emissions tested on my car. The woman was scary. I said a very friendly “hello, how are you doing today.” And she gave me back such a snide remark I felt the need to say I was sorry. She redeemed herself before I left and she said more words to me. Then I went to the grocery store where I thought I was in a music video for Prince’s Let’s Go Crazy. It was kinda amazing, but no one else wanted to say the beginning words with me. Then I reminded myself he was dead and reality came back sharply. Somehow I didn’t buy any cookies even though they were on sale.
Then the headache started. Eye roll, eye roll. Back to work in eight hours. Ugh.