Last night I went to water aerobics. Water aerobics involves chlorinated water. Chlorinated water gets in my eyes and bugs my contacts. So this morning, when I put them in and couldn't really see out of them, I wasn't surprised. Usually a few minutes will resolve the problem, but it didn't. I drove all the way to work, trying to blink them into submission. No luck. Well, the lucky part was that I'd brought my glasses and a contact case in my bag. After two minutes at the office, I plucked the contact lenses back out and stuck my glasses on.
The sun was out this afternoon—so bright and so shinny—so I thought I'd be cool and wear my sunglasses home. This required putting my contacts back in. I figured that after eight or more hours out they'd be glad to go back in. Uh, no. Blurry, gritty, yucky . . . no.
Then it dawned on me. Grumbling, I took one out and put it in the case. I moved the one left in my eye to the other eye and blinked a few times. Bingo. Had them in the wrong eyes. I don't even remember the last time I did that. Hello, blonde moment. Yes I have them and yes, I realize that when I am eligible for senior blonde moments life will get infinitely more interesting. Of course at that point I'll probably forget everything I do after ten minutes, so maybe it won't be so bad . . .
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