Workin' the Pathetic OR Sorry Anne Z, I'm really OK

I took out my contact lenses on Friday. For those of you who do not share a bedroom with me, this is a major life event.

I am laughably near-sighted. I have a hard time identifying my own children, without the lenses in, or at least my back-up glasses. And I hate my back-up glasses. So I tend to wear the lenses until my eyes spontaneously reject them. Then, I leave them out until my eyes stop stinging, or I can't stand it anymore, whichever comes first.

This means that when I do take them out, my eyeballs are in shock. They can't believe I expect them to go back to their original shape. It hurts. I become rather photophobic. And for the next week or so I tear up without warning, even when there is no accompanying pain.

I'm kinda used to it. Damp rag over the eyes in bed at night, kleenex at my elbow during the day, don't even bother with mascara.

All that is background.

Saturday I went to the library to pick up the last few episodes of Mad Men Season 2 (Hubby and I are HOOKED). Walking across the parking lot, I saw a woman I don't know all that well, but we like each other. Nice chick. We stopped in the parking lot for a few minutes to catch up.

As I was telling her that yes, all 4 boys are in school these days and yes, I have been looking for full-time work since May and no, I have not gotten anything remotely like a job offer and yes it is crappy what is going on with the economy at large, my right eyeball started its traditional leaking.

So, you know, I'm having this fairly serious conversation, with someone I haven't seen in months, and I am focused on that. Not so much on the sheet of tears rolling down my face. Because, you know, it's just what happens when I take my lenses out. And then I looked up and Anne was giving me The Look.

You know the one.

The look that says, "You're so brave, speaking so calmly when clearly you are heartbroken by your fruitless job search."

But of course at that point you can't say, "Oh, I'm not CRYING. I'm OK." because EVERYONE says that. It is as good as saying, "I am on the verge of suicide!"

So, I just ignored it, got my DVDs and went home.

Now, though, I feel kinda bad. What if Anne is worried for me?

All you local bloggy people, you know who she is. If you see her, please tell her I am fine. Still job hunting, but fine.

And by the way I wrote this entire blog post with tears, and a smile, on my face. I cannot WAIT to put those lenses back in.