Sunday, September 28, 2008


I decided to get some new specs a couple of weeks back. Been having some trouble with my current ones. Also figured I could get the eyes checked while at it. Haven't gone for a checkup for a while, like I was supposed to. No surprise at the result. Vision has worsened. The sales lady went on about all sorts of lenses and frames. Plastic is all the rage apparently. I think I've mentioned before that I find shopping traumatic. Having to go through all sorts of samples and pick one that made me "look good". So I looked around at all the samples they had on display, all the while feeling guilty at making the lady wait and watch my indecision. Got to the final row, then it hit me. I have to pick something. So I did that picky picky ponky thing and pointed to one of the pairs. She opened the contraption which holds them in and handed the specs to me. Felt a bit silly trying them out. The decision had been made. Besides. I was at the last row. I wasn't going to say "Nah, these don't look good on me". It was going to be those or nothing.

Went to collect the specs with the new lenses on sato. Was taken aback when they were unwrapped and handed to me. These can't be mine. I must have become really blind. The things were noticeably thick. Surely my eyesight can't have deteriorated this much. I first figured I didn't have perhaps as good vision as other guys when in high school. But I hated specs. Feared I would not look good in them. Ha. Go figure. Then there was also this perception from the guys who had specs in primo, that one can't be carefree and playful and stuff. You always have your specs to think about. So you can't head a ball for instance, not that I particularly like to head footballs. Then there's the fear of forgetting/losing them somehow, or sitting on them. Lots of fears.

There was a class in campus, automata theory, where I used to sit at the back of the reasonably large room. Larger than our other classes at least. And since I always came late, the back is where I sat. I used to write notes from the guy next to me. Couldn't see anything written on the board. Couldn't hear anything either with the generator going on. It's a wonder I didn't fail that unit. Well, I got a D, so it's not that much of a wonder.

Finally accepted and got specs after like a year of working. I think it was the death march we were going through at the time and the many projected presentations that caused such a strain. I'd done a medical before getting into campus where the fact that I was short-sighted first became official. I asked the doc whether not wearing specs would make things worse and he was rather non-commital. Played right into my thinking, so I forgot about it.

Now, I suppose, I'll have to do like normal short-sighted people do and not refuse to wear my specs. Things can't get worse I don't think. May even get better. And eat lots of carrots. I hear that stuff actually works.


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