so much for chillaxin

Yesterday I fully intended on having a lazy day. With finals done (granted the way my school is I have finals once a month), sister on her way back to Florida, one last week of work and school before I too would be off to Florida I decided to use the day to relax and pamper myself, I was going to get a facial, mani pedi...which I don't do often. So I woke up, and was fairly anxious to get the pamper party started. I followed my general morning routine...nothing too glamorous, just brushing my hair and teeth with their respective brushes, dress in my usual "I don't have to wear my work or school uniform" uniform of jeans and a t-shirt...and went to put my contacts in...right eye first, just as I have done everyday since I started wearing contacts in 9th grade. Now it was the left eyes turn, I gave the contact the once over just to check for lint or anything before placing it in my eye...when I saw it...a tear on the edge. I panicked...you see this was my last pair of disposable contacts. I have been meaning to go to the eye doctor ever since I started getting insurance...but there is always something seemingly more important. I froze in my bathroom, one contact in my eye, the other in my hand trying to decide what to do. I washed the left one down the drain, because what can you do with a torn contact? If you are not aware, I do have glasses, the same glasses that I have had the last 7 years...the same Kate Spade glasses that I swore up and down to my grandad that if I had them I would wear glasses more often...the same glasses I only wear at night and hate wearing in public because I lose my peripherral vision (I am literally legally blind, so without glasses or contacts I can't see anything thus when I wear glasses I can't see anything around them).

So, I pull the right contact out too and threw it away out of frustration and put my glasses back on. I leave the house determined to find a optometrist that takes my insurance that is open on a Sunday. I know it would have been easier and smarter to do some internet research first, but I was frustrated.

Come to find out that my same eye doctor from when I was younger was in fact open and around the corner from my apartment. So a few hours later, new contacts in my eye and new glasses ordered I was ready for pampering...until I realized it was 3 and I was exhausted from the ordeal...plus I felt guilty that Libby had been in her crate all week and I had planned to take her to the dog park...so I guess pampering will have to wait until Florida.