Contacts

I’ve got con­tacts again after a three year hia­tus. So now I’m even more stun­ning­ly hand­some than I was while wear­ing spec­ta­cles. The con­tacts are pret­ty expensive—about $200 for a six month sup­ply.

Sup­pos­ed­ly each pair will only last a month. I have my doubts. I bet they’ll last 6 times as long if I care for them cor­rect­ly. Most of the wear on the lens­es comes from loose eye­flesh and blink­ing. I don’t blink much, and I’ve been scrap­ing my eyes with razor­blades to reduce the amount of loose eye­flesh. Plus, I’m only going to wear my con­tacts when I need some­one to find me stun­ning­ly hand­some or when I’ll be want­i­ng to wear sun­glass­es. To facil­i­tate my stun­ning­ly hand­some­ness, I should prob­a­bly keep my facial hair a bit less pig­gly­wig­gly, iron my shirts, and not scarf my food. So, nev­er­mind. I’ll just go the scruffy and slop­pi­ly dressed route and digust all the women. But I’ll have con­tacts at least.

The rea­son I stopped wear­ing con­tacts is because they could­n’t be weight­ed cor­rect­ly to fit on my eye. The lens­es had a cen­tral bal­last. These new ones have a three bal­lasts arrayed almost lat­er­al­ly; the two on the edges of the lens are a bit high­er than the cen­tral. That makes ’em less like­ly to rotate around the eye. That is help­ful con­sid­er­ing how astim­gat­ic I am. I’m glad it is Fri­day.

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