Yesterday, I visited the eye doctor for a follow-up exam on a new contact lens prescription. I thought I could see okay, but identifying numbers and letters in a dark room with one eye covered proved otherwise.
I’ve always had poor eyesight and have either worn glasses or contact lenses. Not only am I far-sighted, but I’ve got astigmatism and my right eye is correctable only to 20/50.
It’s always been my fantasy that, if I had a wish, I’d squander it on new eyes.
Actually, I’d wish for a bottomless bank account, from which my perfectly-proportioned self would help everyone in need from my 2,000 heavily wooded acres and 54,000 square-foot estate completely furnished in Art Deco antiques and rare artwork by famous dead artists, with a library on each floor containing floor-to-ceiling bookcases filled with books of all kinds, next to a garage housing my exotic sports-car collection – any of which I would operate with the aid of my perfect vision.
And, if I had 2 wishes, I’d include anti-gravity breasts.