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Smoke Gets In Your Eyes, And Other Stuff

Last week, it was all about the waffle iron. This week, it looks like I had waffles implanted in my thighs. So, with syrupable cellulite as motivation, I rode my bike this morning to my eye doctor appointment, even though it was very cold. I told people it was 0º F this morning because I took an average of the temperature at our house, 1º above zero, the temperature at the Wendy's I rode by, 5º above zero and how cold it felt at the bottom of a hill I rode down.
I practically got my money's worth at the doctor's office just in Kleenex blowing my nose when I walked in from the cold. But I got a lot more, too. A technician dilated my eyes, and touched them with  some sort of a probe.  They were numb, so I couldn't feel anything, but still. While she worked, I told her that I wasn't going to be one of those brave blind people, and I wasn't really a very good eye drops person, either. "Oh, I know that," she said.
But even with that warning, the ophthalmologist still came right out and told me I have glaucoma. Apparently, the only risk factor for glaucoma that I have is, glaucoma. But that's enough.

Patellofemoral Derangement Has Deranged Right In The Name

I'm reading a book by the bloggess, who, as you might guess, blogs. I've always thought that I had a crippling anxiety disorder, but I realized while reading the chapter titled, "And Then I Got Stabbed In The Face By A Serial Killer" that comparatively, I really had more of an anxiety trick knee.

Maximum Job Security

At the time clock this morning people were discussing their retirement plans. Somebody asked if I was retiring any time soon. "When I applied here," I said, "I thought I was asking for a job, but I got a life sentence."

Not Feeling Any Pressure

At Costco yesterday, I picked up two boxes of Chocolate Cheerios with a coupon, and then after an eye exam in their optical shop (because I wanted to try out the $6.95 glasses at zennio) a brochure about glaucoma. I didn't see that coming, which, I guess, was the point.

Adapt Or Die

When I was young, I read a story about a human astronaut who was stranded on an alien planet. He was in a city that had apparently been abandoned eons ago, but that had been built to fulfill every need of its alien creators. But he, as a human, was cold and starving, and being offered poison to eat. Desperate, he lashed out at the city, slashing and hacking at it, then falling into an exhausted sleep. When he awoke, the city offered him a refreshing shower, and a delicious breakfast. The city had adapted to his needs, he thought, as he twitched his tail with delight. Get it? The twist was that he had adapted to the city, not the other way around.
I only mention this because I'm listening to AARP Internet Radio as I type this, and for some reason the music which has always been awful, has gotten a lot better.

Elroy Jetson Grows Up

Saturday we had our annual leave sign-up for next year. I asked for the weeks after Christmas and New Year's, so I was scheduling leave for 2014. It was a heartbreaking acknowledgement that I'll be working forever. Twenty. Fourteen. Say it out loud. Doesn't it sound impossibly far in the future? Where are the flying cars, the talking dogs, the retirement plans?