Finally broke down and got new glasses.
I knew the old ones weren’t cutting it anymore. I’d often catch myself squinting at street signs and zooming in more and more on the computer screen. Whatever fancy-dancy coating they put on the lenses had gone rogue and made it impossible to clean them.
Of course I had a number of excuses for not addressing the situation sooner.
I haven’t made New Year’s resolutions for longer than I care to think about.
Oh, I used to do it. Sometimes I’d write a list on a piece of paper which I would then slap up where it would stare me in the face on a regular basis. Invariably I’d get so used to that paper being around
that I didn’t really see it anymore, which usually coincided with my rapidly diminishing New Year’s fervor. By the end of February the list was nothing but a reminder of my abject failure, so it ended up in the circular file.
2018 took an unholy delight in shaking things up, throwing things out, and lobbing meteorites from out of nowhere. It was disconcerting, upsetting, depressing, and exhausting.
Life Is Short and So Am I 