Day Forty-Three ... The Glasses Caper

The day started off well enough or so it seemed. As time to leave for my first training session neared I started gathering my things for the day. Clipboard. Wallet. Keys. Glasses? Where are my glasses? After ten minutes of searching I began to get a little concerned but not overly. This isn't uncommon for me and part of the reason is because without my glasses on it becomes ever so difficult to see them and find them in the first place.

Then it became time to leave and I still could not find them. I asked the dogs. I asked they cat. They had no input whatsoever.

I texted my client to let him know I wouldn't be there early in case he was. More time passed and I had to text him to cancel. I simply cannot drive without glasses and believe me the world is better off without me on the roads nearly blind as a bat zipping around in a Mini Cooper late for work.

By now I was beginning to feel a bit frantic and I had to slow myself down, breathing deep and even I got my emotions under control. Instead of using my eyes to find my glasses, I had to use my hands, and find them I did. Under the bed. Between the base for the headboard and the casters for the box spring. Not visible to the human eye, even with 20/20 vision. I cannot imagine they simply fell there on their own. I have a feeling they had some feline intervention? I picture little Trinity playing hockey with my glasses with Sixto watching ...

She even LOOKS guilty

All in all I learned I can calm myself in times of real stress, my client was very understanding, my boss was understanding and texted me to get contacts. I thought he said CONGRATS though ... Wow, talk about needing glasses. Clearly I need a back-up form of something, contacts or glasses. My biggest worry was that I had mindlessly placed my glasses in an unusual and unfindable place. It is a relief to know that I did put them on the bedside table as I always do and they were moved by paws to a new location.

Grateful for my glasses,
Nicola Byrne

The obscure we see eventually.  The completely obvious, it seems, takes longer.
-Edward R. Murrow