Before I begin, allow me to post a photo of my pants:
Yes, friends, I am finally in possession of magical Boston terriers wearing santa hats pants. And they were on sale plus 40 percent off, so I got them cheaper than I would have had I bought them on Thanksgiving. So thanks, Old Navy employees who had no idea where they were then.
I went to Walmart today for an eye exam. I don’t go to Walmart often. Not because of some hoity-toity “I watched a documentary on Netflix” beliefs, but because it’s not exactly close to my house and the sheer size of the superstore and parking lot scares me. Sometimes when I’m in London walking everywhere I miss the convenience of driving, but today I wished I could walk to Walmart. The store is only four miles from my house — a supposed 10-minute drive — but I got stuck at every stoplight and was late for my appointment. At least when you’re walking you can jaywalk. And then I swear it took another five minutes just to get from the turn in to the parking lot to an actual open parking space. Thankfully the vision center was near the front door, or else it’d be another 10 minutes just to walk from one end to the other.
While I’m on a complaining roll, I don’t like eye exams. I’m always convinced I got something wrong. I remember during my very first eye exam for contacts in eighth grade the doctor said, “Read the letters for me.” I saw a distinct “4” but since he said “letters,” I said “A.” And since I was still painfully shy at that age, I didn’t correct him or change my answer, so I probably got the wrong prescription. Every time I go I swear my prescription changes by .25. Are my eyes really getting worse, or am I just bad at the test? “Which is better, 1 or 2?” “Can I see 1 again?” “2… no, wait, they’re the same, no, maybe 1…” I’ve had many eye exams since eighth grade and I still can’t seem to get things right. So I left today with a prescription .25 worse than last time, but at least the eye exam was cheap. And I found Hershey’s Special Dark Cocoa at Walmart, which they don’t sell at Kroger, as well as cinnamon chips, which apparently are like chocolate chips, but cinnamon. I’m excited to use both in oatmeal, but probably not at the same time.
I’ll leave you with this eye doctor quote of the day:
“There’s really something not right about a person whose first thought is ‘London, Kentucky.'”
(After I told him I was visiting from London, England and he jokingly replied, “Not London, Kentucky?” And I told him he’d be surprised by how many people first ask “London, Kentucky?” I was going to devote a whole blog post to the phenomenon, it’s happened that much. Some I hope are joking, but I’m afraid too many are serious. Perhaps I just need to fake a British accent.)