I need new glasses, but I refuse to go to the eye doctor. Everyday I look at them in the mirror and they make me feel deflated, just like a bad hair day. They kind of slip off my face eighteen times a day. They are an annoying problem. That which a quickly tightened screw will not even solve anymore.
They make feel poor, but I’m not. I can afford nice things. In fact at no time in my life have I ever been more financially sound as I am now. Bitch, I’m grown.
I want new glasses, but I won’t get myself to a freaking lens crafters. And, that’s me.