Anyway, I wear sunglasses any time I go outside during daylight hours, even if the sun isn't out and it's raining or foggy or whatever. I don't wear sunglasses in gloomy weather to show how cool I am, I wear them because even the tiniest bit of glare will bother me.
I'm real good at not losing my sunglasses. I don't know how many times TheManTheMyth will ask, "Have you seen my sunglasses?" because he can't keep track of them. I've only lost one pair in all my years and that was because they flew off when I was in a terrifying boating accident at the Colorado River about 20 years ago. So technically, I didn't LOSE them because I know exactly where they were, which was the bottom of the river.
I'm real picky about my sunglasses. I don't care if they're $5 swap meet "Designer Imposter Knockoffs" or $250 Chanel sunglasses. It's all about the lenses. There's nothing worse than buying a pair, going outside and the lenses are all wrong. They're either too light or something in the curve of the lenses makes everything look like I'm looking in a funhouse mirror and I get all woozy and dizzy. How they work inside a department store with fluorescent lighting and how they work outside in natural light tend to be completely different which is why I will buy 5 pair before finding the Right Pair.
Then one day, I found The Right Pair. They were the right, uh, I dunno, darkness and the lenses didn't make everything all distorted and they came with a lovely green case and they were also very reasonably priced. And I loved them.
And then I got sloppy. Instead of putting them in their lovely green case in my purse when I took them off, I'd just lay them on the bookcase next to the sofa.
I think I've mentioned that I have a dog that likes to chew things. Well. The other day, I'm laying in bed when Gracie Lou jumps down and goes trotting down the hall. A few minutes later, I hear crunching sounds and the knowledgeable part of me is saying, "That little shit is destroying something" and the lazy part of me is saying, "Don't get your panties in a wad, she's chewing on her bone." TheManTheMyth gets out of bed and Gracie comes running back down the hall, jumps back on the bed and pretty much dives under the covers. She can't act any more guilty than if I had caught her in the act. But do I get up to investigate? Nope.
So TheManTheMyth heads off to work and Guilty Gracie and I catch some more zzzz's. When I get up, I do a quick reconnaissance of the living room, kitchen and my office to make sure there isn't any surprises on the floor and everything looks good. So I tell myself that I was wrong about the destructive sounds I had heard earlier. Another hour goes by and I see the ink pen on the table that is all chewed up and I'm all, "A HA! I KNEW IT!" and I give props to TheManTheMyth for not leaving it on the floor for me to find, the way he usually does when Gracie has left some sort of "gift." But then, I notice what is next to the chewed up pen and a horrified gasp escapes from me and Gracie dives to safety under my bed. Because THIS is what I see:
How many times have I lectured the kids for leaving their iPod earphones where she could get them and eat them (2 sets each, I think she has a taste for earwax or something) and how many times do I tell them "Don't leave anything where she can get it!" and who didn't listen to her own advice?
So now, I'm back to wearing my old scratched up Ralph Lauren sunglasses until I can find The Right Pair once again. This could take days, weeks. Maybe even months.
The future is not looking so bright. And I gotta wear shades.
