All the Small Things

Yesterday I had an appointment with the eye doctor. I got a sweet parking spot right up front so naturally I gave myself a mental high five. Then I hopped out of my car into a huge puddle. Oh right, that's why it was available. What a sucker.

The Doc asked me how much I smoked.
Me: Excuse me?
Doc: It says here (pointing to the screen) you smoke.
Me: No, no I don't. Look at this amazing skin.

Then he proceeded to drill me on personal information to make sure I was in fact the person sitting in the chair needing a check up and not the the random assortment of facts making up some person on his computer screen.

Me: Sir, I promise. I don’t smoke.
Doc: Hm...(rather discriminant) Must have been a typo.
Me: Um yeah, pretty sure.

He lowered my prescription by a lot which explains all my recently traumatic headaches. Phew. I got out of the chair feeling so proud of my eyes. They have corrected themselves to compensate for the beautifully massive high resolution computer screen I get paid to stare at all day long. They are so smart. As I walked over to the sink to put my new contacts, I searched around only to find the mirror was far out of my visual range. I glanced over at the Doc who was handing me the much more accessible child's mirror with a sympathetic smirk. Thanks.

Later, I stopped by the Wal-Mart to pick up some milk. I walked by the produce section and saw mini bananas. I had to adopt them. They are adorable. I walked by another aisle and saw purple plastic cups. I had to buy them. They are purple. After the cashier rung up all my essential items, I proceeded to stand on my tippy-toes to reach the thingy to swipe my card and sign my name. Now I have been too short for a lot of things, but I’ve never been too short to spend money. Really, Wal-Mart, when did you add the height restrictions? C'est la vie