I’m wearing contacts for the first time in years.
Well, not really the first time. I tried them out for two days a month ago until I dropped the left contact down the drain.
I really do look better in glasses.
My features don’t match. I have my mother’s bedroom eyes with my father’s jowl line. It look’s like I’ve just had a stroke. If I was a make-up artist my face could be fixed.
I used to hate my nose. I hated my nose when everyone else made fun of my forehead.
And then I thought about how much I hate pain and plastic surgery went out the window. Plus, if I had my nose fixed, then I’d have a small nose, eyes, and mouth on a big head.
A kid at Wal-Mart sang a barking tune right after I passed him tonight. I don’t know why he did it (in my mind, I wanted a fight because he was so dumplingly ordinary) but I flashed back to the years when shit like that happened to me all the time.
Fuck him and the horse he rode in on.