My Sh*t Vision & Men Who Think They Know Things

[Listen to an audio version of this blog here.]

“What exit is that?” I asked Mike, on one of our many drives to God-Knows-Where. We go so many places that they blur together like so many cars on so many congested, L.A.-adjacent interstates.

I couldn’t see the exit sign because my eyes, already heavily corrected, have once again gone to shit. Mike, on the other hand, has absolutely perfect vision for no good reason.

Road signs are blurry, especially at night. Just the other weekend, I couldn’t read the overhead menu in a restaurant. At night, the moon looks like a large, blurry orb hanging over the ocean. So I booked an eye exam at the one and only Costco, and the lovely eye doctor there told me what I already knew, “Your eyes have worsened considerably,” she told me, “I’m going to up your contact prescription three quarters of a point, the glasses will go up an entire point.”

Cool, I thought. Not only do I spent hundreds of dollars each year on eye care, but as my prescription worsens, my glasses get thicker and my contacts increase in price because I live with an astigmatism and because I can no longer tolerate monthly or even weekly eye suckers. Last year, I picked up my year supply of daily contacts in a Trader Joe’s grocery bag. Wearing daily contacts means that I slowly discard 730…