July 22, 2014

Went under thunderheads of wrath to the optometrist’s finally to resolve to issue with my “new” glasses. Discovered that it was less one day of a year since I first went to get them, and that my warranty expired the very next day. My wrath grew as this doctor, too, explored every way in the world to convince me that the glasses were all right. The old glasses, the ones that are on my head now, they condemned as being “wrong,” though I could and can see through them perfectly. Finally, though, she decided that the new lenses were ground wrong and that I was always looking through the wrong part of them. She put dots on them to show where certain parts were, and that they were an astonishing distance from where they should be. Another pair in ten days. Part of me is thankful for the good luck in coming the day before my warranty expired; part of me is enraged that it took a year and a series of dismissed complaints to get it done. Is it done? We’ll see. My rage is not settled, even now, if that’s what the rage is about.

The glasses people opened two hours late yesterday because of some meeting, so I stormed out to Lowe’s and bought flowers from the last-of-the-season bin. One was joe-pye. Don’t even know what the other was, though it looks onion-y.

Ran hard at the Y to no ill effect. Made surprisingly little progress on my play. I think I have to have a payday before I can work anymore.