Poke in the eye

I’m not allowed to order any new contact lenses until I update my prescription, which involves an eye test. I’m quite cavalier about these things, especially when I realise certain opticians aren’t taking appointments and when I know there will be a charm offensive to sell me £250 designer frames and £50 per month Maxi-Breathable Ultra 3000 contact lenses.

My appointments were messed up so I had to perch in a coffee shop for a while, which I think is the first time I’ve sat in such an establishment since March. It all felt very novel and exciting. Less novel than donning my glasses, which I do approximately every three years, and having to battle with condensation caused by the mask, which turns out to be a hindrance when testing vision. The end result was successful and I should have a batch of lenses in a few weeks, assuming Kush the optician is satisfied with my eye health when we have a phone consultation in two weeks’ time.

The cat clawed me in the face, as per, whilst I relaxed in bed. Maybe he was trying to test how well the new lenses would remain clinging to the retina with an oversized talon poking them. Whilst he did not manage to dislodge them, he interrupted my moment of tranquility.