Blundering through life in the city this week…
Nothing has come of my plans to work, I need all my time and wits to manage daily life. This may have included a spectaculair crash in the doctors waiting room when they had my appointment time wrong and I timed my energy peak accordingly. My crashes come with incoherent sobbing and a need to succumb to gravity NOW. Although all physically caused it looks quite hysterical. So íf I were to confess I crashed you can imagine it was a spectacle and I was mortified with shame afterwards.
But I’m not telling.
Neither will I confess to getting on a wrong, slow train to nowhere where I needed to be. Nor whether or not I forgot the most important pills for this week at the cabin, together with my all knitting charts.
I will tell you about something I did right this week: I got reading glasses. The optician suggested them and I put them on and my eyes liked them instantly. Much more rest. So I was sold! Give me two!
That’s when the optician spend 15 minutes convincing me there was no shame in getting reading glasses at my age (41), it doesn’t mean I’m old. At all! Please don’t think that. Even although most people don’t get reading glasses until they are 50 years old, you are by no means old by getting them now.
I have never associated tools with age. Anything that makes your life easier makes you look smart, is what I think. Glasses, hearing aids, pills, prosthetics, cane, roller blades, ear mufflers etc.
The optician must get some weird customers… I suspect there is a generation sometime before mine that doesn’t want glasses or hearing aids because ‘they make you feel old’. So now I feel young because that’s not me. I’m one of the newer guys who favour technology. We are Borg, baby!
… oh… now I feel old again because clearly I do not look that age. The optician thought I looked the age of the older must-not-look-needy generation…
I better go shopping for some beige coat then….to dress the age I look…
luckily I can’t! because my energy is needed elsewhere (making and eating lunch and resting and than trying to wrestle the doctors office administration habits again to get a new prescription for the pills. Round 3.)
These are my reading/knitting glasses: