A day or so after the missing milk episode in the soap opera known as my life, it was a foggy morning. I had gotten up and gotten ready for work as usual, and I left the house a bit earlier than usual, thinking that I might need a few extra minutes for my commute because of the fog.
I got to work with no problems, congratulating myself on my great foresight and planning. As I entered the building and started down the l – o – n – g hallway to my classroom, I realized that something was off with my vision. Specifically, my left eye, the one that has the contact lens that corrects my distance vision. I couldn’t see the end of the hallway clearly, and I usually can. I figured there might be a smudge on the contact in question, so I thought I’d check it out when I got to my classroom. If there was an actual tear or something, I would have to put in one of the emergency contacts that I keep in my school bag.
Once settled in my classroom, I took out a pocket mirror and examined my eye. It looked fine, no redness or irritation apparent, so the contact itself was probably not actually damaged, perhaps just a bit smudgy, as I said. I fished around to get the contact out to have a good look at it. It wouldn’t budge. I kept trying. My eye reddened and watered. I took a closer look at it in the mirror. To my surprise, there didn’t seem to BE a contact in my right eye – which would explain why I couldn’t get it out.
I looked in my school bag to get my emergency contacts out. And guess what I didn’t HAVE in my school bag?
So, to recap: somehow, I had neglected to put BOTH contacts in my eyes that morning, and then I didn’t even notice as I was driving to work because the fog made everything in the distance blurry anyway. And who knows when I last checked to make sure that my emergency contacts were actually where they should be in case of emergency?
It was an interesting day vision-wise, to say the least.