Shades

On my trip to Savannah I forgot to take contact solution. I didn't realize it until I had washed my faced, donned my PJ's, and was ready to take out my contacts. Boo. So, I thought, "No biggie, I'll just sleep in them and get solution tomorrow."
That sounded like a good idea until midnight, when I was blinking my dry eyes furiously and counting the minutes I away until I had to get up again. So, I gave up, chucked them in the trash, and conceded to wearing glasses for the next few days.
There's nothing conceptually wrong with glasses. But I did face two issues. First, I would catch my index finger poised an inch from the bridge of my nose, ready to push them back up so I could see. And in that moment, my inner geek reigned. I try to keep her under wraps, but glasses make her bolder.
Second, and this is the kicker, it was impossible to wear sunglasses. I squinted from Savannah to Atlanta today. So, I'm grateful for a number of aspects of my usual eye care situation. But given four hours of a wrinkled brow, I'm particularly grateful for sunglasses. Not only do they spare me the wrinkles and discomfort of scrunching my forehead, but they look cool. Super cool. (Take that, inner geek. Who's eating lunch at the cool table now?)