A year or so ago I got bifocals and decided I hated them. The optician talked me into these graduated ones that go from distance to reading with middle sites blended in between. When I wear them I feel like a bobble head, tipping my head this way and that, trying to find just the right spot to see whatever I’m looking at clearly. Finally, I gave up, and just use reading glassing. To heck with trying to see things in the distance!
In all honesty, that hasn’t worked out so well. Thankfully, it hasn’t affected my driving. Much. But in church, with needing to following the card with the new translation, either the priest is a big blur or the reading glasses go on and off. And on and off. It’s the same way at work. And at home. And in the stores.
It’s time to try again. But this time I’m not getting those graduated things. No more bobble head Donna!
So guess what that means? I need to find the prescription from the eye doctor. Has anyone seen it? Hee! Hee! (I just love a good pun. Too bad that wasn’t one, though.)
It wasn’t where I thought it should be, tucked nicely in the file drawer with all other of those kinds of papers. Nope. Not there.
So what better way to spend New Year’s Day afternoon than going through the pretty, large, bottomless wicker basket of mystery papers. Resumes from three jobs ago? Nope, don’t need them. Directions to the job interview I didn’t want to go on anyway? Not that either. Instruction manual for a radio I no longer have? Gone. And on and on it went.
The script, of course, was the very last piece of paper I looked at. The last piece of paper. Not, as in, “I stopped looking once I found it” last. No. As in, that last piece of paper at the very bottom of the basket” last.
Funny thing. When I go on interviews, I am often asked what are three of my best qualities I bring to the job. I always say “I’m organized”. I’m beginning to think that’s a not so accurate statement.