Impulse Buyer

I must admit, I can talk myself into a shiny, pretty, somewhat unnecessary purchase ridiculously easily. Take, for example, my eye doctor's appointment. I was pretty sure a spectacle tweak was in order. My previous prescription being over seven years old... and I'm not getting any younger! (or so they keep telling me. My eyesight will get worse over time?! Ugh!) I knew it was time to take action when catching up on Reader, Facebook, and email was giving me a headache. I tried to just pop my glasses back into the rotation, having  actually dust them off due to never wearing them on a regular basis- just when I wanted to look extra-smart. Sadly,  it didn't fix my squinting while editing pictures... choo choo! Next stop, crow's feet! Can someone tell me if my pictures have been fuzzy or out of focus lately? I really can't tell!

I had to find a new opthamologist/optometrist, make an appointment, figure out what to do with the kids, and face the proposition of getting my eyes dilated along with all the other unpleasant assorted eye doctor tests- much akin to the "fun" of dentists visits. If I was going to be kid free, this seemed like a slip backwards in the relaxing department.

Somehow I survived the "small puff of air" coming at my corneas. Ok, fine. I jumped out of my chair and actually startled the technician. Yes, I am a certifiable spaz. I still maintain that test is cruel and unusual punishment; I can't keep my eye open for the ominous puff of air! My lids are made for the specific purpose of keeping stuff like that out of my eye! It's physically impossible! Impossible, I tell you!

Either way, I made it to the exam room and waited for my doctor to come in and do his flippy lens thing while I try and read some insanely tiny letters. This was a new doctor, as I am boycotting our previous Ear, Nose, & Throat practice. (For this reason. Heh, "no outside prescriptions" indeed! Now you've lost three clients! Hope it was worth it!) Also, The Husband has told me that he feels I blacklist things too easily. Please read through Bunny's glasses ordeal and tell me a boycott isn't warranted!

Anyway, new doctor comes in and the first thing he says? "You have gigantic pupils!" This is true. I have known this since I was twelve, when one of my optomistrists didn't make me do the dilating drops- I love my large pupils. New doc was quite astounded at my large pupils, and didn't make me do the drops, either! I almost gave him a hug right then and there.

So I really end up liking this new doctor. He explained a lot of things that other doctors haven't. I now know why I get so forceably carsick. And why I subconsciously wear sunglasses all the time (it's my signature trademark, in fact!) He looked at a scan of my eye and showed me how little pigment I have- I am severely sensitive to light, it turns out. He highly suggested I get prescription sunglasses.

Since I both love to wear and buy sunglasses, I thought this a top notch idea. I waltzed into the front room with lofty ideas. Sunglasses, new frames, and replacing the lenses in my old glasses... just because I love my old frames so much. (they match the blue of my eyes perfectly- seriously, a better pair of specs could not be possible) A breif overview of my insurance policy kind of dashed these delusions of grandeur. They covered one pair of lenses, and a paltry amount on the frames. Fantastic.

Remember I was still high off the "I'm so tragically light sensitive!" knowledge. So I had the sweet optician throw everything she had on me. She asked to see my current sunglasses. (this is probably where the whole thing took a turn for the tragic) I took the glasses off my head, a gorgeous pair of black Dior shades- the black pair to match my black shoes. Only problem? My other pair of brown sunglasses- the pair I wear 80% of the time- cost me five bucks (no, I'm serious- five literal dollars) and my nice Dior ones I picked up for a song at the Nordstrom Rack, anyway. This chick probably thought I had loads of money to blow on glasses. (this is, in fact, false!)

I am super picky, and I know exactly what works on my face and what doesn't, so when presented with a plethora of options, I quickly settled on a stunning pair of Coach sunglasses. I even made the lady find a pair that had silver details instead of gold. (I don't do gold- how snobby of me) I was acting totally casual! I was letting the dollars fly as I proceeded to find frames I loved, not more than my old frames, but they were slightly Tina-Fey-esque, which I could see myself enjoying.

The lady on the other side of the counter totaled up all my crazy requests... and the final number was staggering. No human should have to pay that much to see. Well, or have various optical options. (What if I wasn't feeling all Tina Fey one day... and wanted my smarty pants "graphic designer" look with my old glasses?! What then, insurance Nazis?! WHAT THEN?!) I texted The Husband with my dilemma. I waited and waited for him to magically lose his mind and give me the go ahead to spend a small fortune on facial accessories.

After an eternity of checking my phone, it was evident that The Husband has opted for a nap while the kids were down and I was convincing myself I was an oil tycoon heiress at my eye appointment. (considering he was home sick from work on this particular afternoon, I let that slide) I had to make a decision. The cost of replacing the lenses in my current adorable, lovely, I'm-emotionally-attatched-to-these-frames, was only thirty dollars cheaper than getting new frames altogether, so I lost all sanity.

I do this when I'm staring at shiny things- I hype it all up in my head, any sense of "financial responsibility" morphs into nothing but a defunct "social construct" that I can live without, and I say "Screw it! I am getting myself something nice for ONCE!" I ordered the exceedingly expensive sunglasses, along with replacement lenses for the frames I simply couldn't let go of. I paid my bill- with a wince- and drove home.

As I pulled up into the drive, I got a text back from The Husband: "Can't you just get Transitions lenses? I know you think they are dorky, but sheesh! That's way too much for glasses!"

It took no more than twelve hours of agonizingly raking myself over the coals for being so impulsive, selfish, and vain, to end up calling the office the very minute they opened the next day to retract my crazy order and go with the least expensive of the options: order a new pair of regular ol' clear glasses, use my old glasses as a backup with an old prescription, and use my five dollar sunglasses to ward off the sun's rays from my extra special sensitive eyeballs.