That sort of day...

What sort of day?

Well, to start with, I sleep with my phone--my alarm is on it, and I've gotten texts or calls in the morning more times than I can count. We don't have chargers in the bedroom, so it goes under my pillow.

Which is how you drool-dial your buddy and get awakened at seven-thirty (ten-thirty her time) by someone laughing their ass off because you've been a dork.

Good morning, sunshine! I'm awake! I'm awake! I'm ready to go take the dogs to the park! Just need my wallet, my keys, my sunglasses...

Oh shit! Where are my sunglasses? My disintegrating Fake-Ban prescription sunglasses that I need RIGHT NOW because the sun outside is like the piercing light of eye-fucking justice and driving with just my old (old, old) Ben Franklin style bi-focals and no shade makes me want to cry.

Or it makes my eyes water.

And did I mention the bifocals were old? Like a prescription from five years ago? Yes, I left the more recent (but still 3 years outdate) prescription in Florida, because--and I may have mentioned this-- I am a dork.

But dogs! Park! So I put the bifocals on, and then, floating around the house where one of my daughters (coulda been either one--no lie) have left them are a pair of cheap--as in FREE swag sunglasses from a convention a zillion years ago.

Oh my God.

They go on right over my bifocals.

I mean, RIGHT on over my skinny metal-rimmed glasses. You can barely see the prescription glasses under the cheap sunshades.

And for a moment, I'm very pleased with my ingenuity, and then then I remember my grandmother was a piece of work. Like, she could be incredibly unpleasant. And we used to tease her unmercifully because she wore regular glasses, and over them she put a sunshade--one of those Darth Vader/welder mask sunshades that she would pull over her glasses like a visor--and that I had, essentially, reinvented the patented Grandma/Darth Vader/Welder Mask look and that I was, in fact--you guessed it-- a colossal dork!

However, this dork managed her walk around the park and was very pleased to get home and start work. Except just when I sat down, I got a text.

Oh my God. My new prescriptions--plural, because new insurance-- had arrived, and I thought they had two more weeks to go. Think about it. I had mentally committed myself to Grandma/Darth Vader/Welder Mask infamy for the next two weeks, and, Oh my God, SALVATION!

I went and picked up my glasses and I was SO HAPPY!

So happy I actually looked for the cases so I could commit the Grandma/Darth Vader/Welder Mask dynamic duo to the car as extreme backup measures.

And that's when I found it.

The case for my disintegrating--but far less humiliating--very loyal, very functional, they survived a war, the lenses were still a little pitted and the frame was about to fall apart, Fake Ban sunglasses that I had just replaced with real Ray Bans.

*sigh*

I gave them a little pet as I retired them to their case in the car door. I mean, they should have fallen apart a year ago, right?

And I"m sort of going to miss them.

Cause I'm a dork.