Ugh.
You think there's such a thing as hangover credits? The kind that maybe your body decides to cash in on any random day?
See, here's the thing.
I spent, oh, a lot of my early twenties generally Hoovering up any beverage with a percent sign attached to it, far too quickly, and rather foolishly. And you know, I'd get the basic hangover every so often, but I'd still be able to get up and go to school or work or whatever, and function fairly well.
Now however, a mere few years later... I don't even have to have a drink, and I get up the next morning with the echoes of a bloody keg party in my head!
I don't know, maybe I had one Crystal Lite to many last night, but man, this morning, I felt like there was a guy who throws like a girl in my head, tossing bowling balls around.
Is that fair? I don't think so.
* * *
My company is having an End-of-Summer-Delayed-Twice-By-Rain-So-Now-It's-Beginning-Of-Autumn BBQ today. Hence, it's also a Casual Day.
I got to wear jeans to work today! Woo Hoo!
Man, if there is ever a time to crawl into jeans and go to work, it's the morning you get up with a fake hangover.
* * *
I've got an optometrist appointment tonight. Doc is gonna check out how my eyes are doing a year after my laser surgery.
I used to have really bad eyes. Glasses from the time I was 7, soft contacts at 16 and then, because of astigmatism, hard contacts at 23. (Hard contacts, by the way, feel approximately like dinner plates in your eyes.)
I used to wear a -6.75 in one eye and a -7.50 in the other. For those of you who don't understand prescriptions, those numbers basically mean pretty frickin' blind without seeing aids.
No contacts on, and I couldn't see regular book print if it was more than six inches from the tip of my nose.
So, after much deliberation, I had laser surgery done. It's an elective surgery. I didn't HAVE to have it done. And the scary thing is that means that if they screw up, it's because you chose to let them do it. Nice, huh?
Anyway, the day comes, and they freeze my eyeballs with these drops. I get on the table, and the surgeon talks me through the whole thing. Did I mention that I was awake through the whole process of a giant machine resting on my face and slitting my eyeballs open?
Basically, what I felt like was chopped fruit. That's right. Chopped fruit.
You chop fruit, and put it in a bowl, cover it with Saran Wrap, and stick it in the fridge, right? Well, when the surgeon peeled back my cornea, I felt like the fruit at the bottom of the bowl, looking up as someone pulled back my Saran Wrap.
Are you squicked yet?
The whole surgery, on both eyes, only took about 10 minutes, and I could see perfectly, immediately after getting up off the table. In fact, I think my first words were to a very much amused nurse who laughed when I exclaimed, "Oh my God, I can see you! I've got nothing in my eyes and I can see you"
They gave me lovely little blue pills, and told me to go home and sleep for as long as possible, and that was it.
I was back the next day, the next week and the next month for check ups, but it had gone better than even they expected, and now, a year later, my pool game is far better than it ever has been.
Even with a fake hangover.
Not bad, huh?
Lovely day, all.
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