depravity and gravity have always got a grasp on me.

“Inaugural” is indeed befitting as this is an election year, but I shan’t be using this as my soap box for political drama.  Nay, I shall keep this light and sweet.  

On today’s blustery day, I am home sick from work with a potentially scratched cornea and a sour disposition.  I’ve been penned up in my bedroom wearing leggings, mismatched socks and a oversized tee-shirt hoping no one wants to pay a visit.  And no, this is not the first time I have scratched my poor little eye.  This is possibly the third or fourth time I have temporarily blinded myself Oedipus-style.  I’ve had a lifetime full of fun little eye problems, from numerous bouts of pink eye and infections to popped blood vessels and  styes.  And before you wince back in pain, let me explain the wonderful side effects and symptoms of all of these lovely issues:

• banishment to dark unearthly corners of house (see: dank basement) for fear of light sensitivity.
• terrified glances from small children having just spotted a real-life red-eyed demon from the seventh circle of Hell.
• driving with actual glasses and two pairs of sunglasses piled atop your nose in an effort to lessen the bright blow of headlights upon your sensitive eyeballs.
• the inability to read, utilize the computer, or watch television for fear of blinding pain.
• seriously contemplating purchasing an eye patch for other than recreational purposes.
• a constant runny nose (when the eye runs, so does the nation).
• the inability to wear contacts (at least glasses are “cool” again.  why couldn’t this trend have occurred while I was in middle school?).
• blinding, indescribable, unnerving pain resonating from the window of your soul.

Pass the ClearEyes, please.