And I hate going shopping (mostly the choice-making part).
Obtaining a new pair of glasses for a woefully bookwormy young woman with fashion tastes that tend toward the bag-lady-esque combines a multitude of anxieties.
Sure, the little tests are pretty fun. I like naming letters!
Then it happens. They give you a prescription: to go shopping. For an accessory you must incorporate into everyday wear. That you can't lose. Or fling on the bed/couch/floor/stove. Because you can't break it. Because without it, you can't freakin' see.
Thank you optometry (?), for combining the discomfort of your average visit to the neighbourhood clinic with the time commitment and hassle of facial accessorizing.
AMY
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