Yesterday about halfway through the morning at work, my contact popped out of my extremely irritated eye and when I went to put it back in realized it had a small tear in it. Being that I was at work, didn't have extra contacts on hand and had left my glasses home where they belong, I sucked it up, put the contact back in and went to work.
Two hours of rubbing later (get your head out of the gutter), I decided, at my co-workers urging, that I should go home to take care of the problem. The internal battle on the way home between putting in a new pair of contacts and just dealing with glasses the rest of the day was brutal. I was pretty certain it hadn't been a month since I last changed contacts, which, now that I pay for them myself (growing up sucks), means that in the end I may wind up buying contacts more than once this year. But my glasses, which haven't been replaced in what seems like 10 years (a much skinnier time of my life) are horrible.
Imagine that the Jerry Maguire kid was forced to wear these glasses for the rest of his life. His head grows, but his glasses don't. The glasses get cracked along the way, but he's too cheap to spend his Jerry Maguire money on new ones. That's about where I was.
If you haven't figured it out, I decided to give my eyes a rest and wear the glasses. These are the glasses that my wife used to beg me to wear because they looked good on me. Unfortunately, those days have long since passed. I strolled back in to work, glasses precariously hanging from my ears and put on my best DirectBuy happy face. By this time I had already come to the realization that at some point in the last 10 years, Barry Bonds' agent has started to slip me whatever he was giving Barry and that this is what has happened.
So, after dealing with the quizzical looks at work - for those of you that have not had the contacts to glasses experience, those of us that do typically get several questions around the lines of "do you always wear glasses? No? They look good on you." - I decided it was clearly time for a new pair. I didn't get the questions, just the odd looks, which in my head clearly meant they were thinking - do I need to grab those glasses off his face and return them to the 10 year old that he stole them from?
I proceeded to go home, make dinner, drink 4 Hop Slams and watch 3 episodes of Breaking Bad (still in my glasses). At some point after Breaking Bad had broken my spirit and the Hop Slam had clouded my brain, I decided it was time to broach the subject with my wife. Rather than simply stating that I needed new glasses, I went the over-the-top dramatic route brought on by the 10% alcohol beer and rather emphatically stated that I have a fat head. All my wife could do was laugh - and tweet about the experience - and remind me that the headache I woke up with this morning may not be related to the Hop Slam.
Somehow, purchasing a new pair of glasses is still a debate that is raging in my head - it seems like such a waste of money considering I wear them in public about once every two years. In two years though, the glasses might go from simply irritating the top of my ears (yes, the frame lands squarely on top of my ear) to fitting only if I wear them like frameless spectacles.
For good measure, I leave you with George Costanza. Unfortunately I couldn't find a good clip of him in the lady frames.