Thursday, October 05, 2006

Hard on the Eyes

Today I had another medical appointment: the opthamologist. I am on a health-kick; next week it's a double whammy: the dermatologist and the psychiatrist.

All I can say, it is very nice to have good health insurance for once and access to medical doctors.

In any case, at the opthamologist, I had my eyes dilated so they could check my lovely retinas. You may be pleased to know that everything looked good.

My challenge was leaving the office in Midtown New York and making my way around with pupils that resembled those of an owl. Moreover, Sara had asked me to pick up a small gift for a shower she is going to. I knew there was a nice set of stores nearby that included a bookstore. Getting around was not easy. You know how your eyes are sensitive when you come out of a early showing of a movie? Well, multiply that by five (I was going to write ten, but that would be too melodramatic). Moreover, my vision was blurry, especially if I tried to look at anything nearby.

I did find my way to the bookstore. Inside I welcomed the lack of windows and sunshine (for once!). I located a gift fairly quickly, but then I began to stall - I did not want to go back outside. I wanted to look around, but not being able to see things clearly nor read makes browsing in a bookstore a bit of a chore. After some time I think I began to freak people out. I would hold things in various angles trying to read them, then I would turn and look at them with enormous dilated eyes. It was at this point that they would slowly back away and make for a quick exit.

I left the bookstore only to be greeted by beams of sunshine pouring in through the massive glass walls that encircled this particular galleria. I grabbed a free cup of espresso being doled out by Illy (the wealthy patrons of these shops certainly don't need the free coffee yet they are the one's who get it) and took refuge in the Whole Foods located in the basement of building. I thought to myself, now I have an idea of what vampires feel like.

I finally braved the trek to the subway stop, squinting my way along. In the subway there were hoards of people going to the Yankees game decked out in their silly regalia. I hate the Yankees (I felt this way even before I lived in Boston). Coupled with my wide pupils, my glares kept even the rowdiest fans far away from me.

I did make it home, but I was unable to be productive because I could not read nor work at the computer. So I watched a documentary I had recorded on the Mexican American War.

Let's see what fun tale I have next week after the pimple-popper and the shrink...

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