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missroseroseToday was kind of an odd day. I got really annoyed about an interpersonal issue at work - far more than I should have, given the inherent time limit - and spent several hours feeling stressed out and frustrated about it. Not fun, especially when you know it's something you can't really do much about and therefore is kind of stupid to be frustrated over.
Anyway, I left work early for an eye appointment, during which I tried to relax, with only some limited success. (Amusing moment - the assistant was showing me the colorblindness plates, and I was confidently rattling off the numbers until she came to a couple that looked like absolute gibberish to me. I blinked and kind of went "Uh...", wondering I'd become colorblind and hadn't noticed, when she laughed and said it was good that I couldn't read the numbers; apparently they're only visible to people who are colorblind.) And afterward I wandered over to the eyeglass display, looking to find a new set of frames for glasses.
Now, I like to think I'm not always difficult to please, but there are certain things I tend to be pretty picky about. Places to live. Computers. Cats. Husbands. The sorts of things that you're making a multi-year commitment to. Eyeglasses certainly fall into this category, with the additional consideration that they can have a startlingly big effect on how others perceive you. So I tend to take my time when shopping for glasses, trying on any number of pairs until I find the ones that look and feel just right.
I was lucky enough to find them this time after going through only about a third of the store's stock (I've been known in the past to try on nearly every frame in the display). Oddly enough, they include two of the traits that I found rather unattractive on other sets of glasses - the lenses are more rectangular than round in shape, and they have particularly wide temple arms that include a rhinestone pattern along the side. But for whatever reason, my gut told me they were the right pair; they fit my head well and framed my face flatteringly, and just plain felt right. So I went and looked at the price tag, figuring they'd be in the $180-$250 range like all the other frames I'd liked.
Nope. $380. (I didn't recognize the label, but then, I don't keep track of designers, so it's perfectly possible they're some name brand.) I cringed - my insurance coverage maxes out at $225 for frames, so I'm making up the difference - but I figured that, in the end, it'd be well worth it. I'll be wearing them very nearly every day, after all. And hey, I'm at least getting my money's worth from my insurance. (Which isn't to say I wouldn't rather have had the $1090 a month the City's been shelling out for me to have said insurance. Just saying.)
And for whatever reason, ever since then I've felt fine - happy about upcoming possibilities (see my last post), excited to be getting plans moving, cheerful about life in general. I've never really subscribed to the idea that consumerism is the answer to all of life's woes, but I won't deny that the experience of finding exactly what you're looking for and having the means to pay for it is a hell of a mood-booster.
Anyway, I left work early for an eye appointment, during which I tried to relax, with only some limited success. (Amusing moment - the assistant was showing me the colorblindness plates, and I was confidently rattling off the numbers until she came to a couple that looked like absolute gibberish to me. I blinked and kind of went "Uh...", wondering I'd become colorblind and hadn't noticed, when she laughed and said it was good that I couldn't read the numbers; apparently they're only visible to people who are colorblind.) And afterward I wandered over to the eyeglass display, looking to find a new set of frames for glasses.
Now, I like to think I'm not always difficult to please, but there are certain things I tend to be pretty picky about. Places to live. Computers. Cats. Husbands. The sorts of things that you're making a multi-year commitment to. Eyeglasses certainly fall into this category, with the additional consideration that they can have a startlingly big effect on how others perceive you. So I tend to take my time when shopping for glasses, trying on any number of pairs until I find the ones that look and feel just right.
I was lucky enough to find them this time after going through only about a third of the store's stock (I've been known in the past to try on nearly every frame in the display). Oddly enough, they include two of the traits that I found rather unattractive on other sets of glasses - the lenses are more rectangular than round in shape, and they have particularly wide temple arms that include a rhinestone pattern along the side. But for whatever reason, my gut told me they were the right pair; they fit my head well and framed my face flatteringly, and just plain felt right. So I went and looked at the price tag, figuring they'd be in the $180-$250 range like all the other frames I'd liked.
Nope. $380. (I didn't recognize the label, but then, I don't keep track of designers, so it's perfectly possible they're some name brand.) I cringed - my insurance coverage maxes out at $225 for frames, so I'm making up the difference - but I figured that, in the end, it'd be well worth it. I'll be wearing them very nearly every day, after all. And hey, I'm at least getting my money's worth from my insurance. (Which isn't to say I wouldn't rather have had the $1090 a month the City's been shelling out for me to have said insurance. Just saying.)
And for whatever reason, ever since then I've felt fine - happy about upcoming possibilities (see my last post), excited to be getting plans moving, cheerful about life in general. I've never really subscribed to the idea that consumerism is the answer to all of life's woes, but I won't deny that the experience of finding exactly what you're looking for and having the means to pay for it is a hell of a mood-booster.
