A Small Victory: On Ordering Contacts

I'm not sure what this will reveal about me, but the most impressive thing I accomplished last week was ordering new contact lenses.  I had avoided the task for months, watching my contact supply dwindle to critically low levels.  Finally, there was one lonely pair at the bottom of the box, and even though I had seen plenty of those "Never Run Out of Contacts" commercials, like the astronaut getting sucked into space, I simply couldn't get my act together.

I wore that final pair of contacts for six weeks.  Maybe seven.  By the end, it felt like I was blinking over sandpaper.

Now, the funny thing is that ordering contacts isn't hard.  It's just one of those adult responsibilities that ate up all my bandwith.

But I did it!  The box arrived in the mail yesterday.  I was so proud that I nearly glued the wrapper to a cord and wore it around my neck like a gold medal, reminiscent of Pam's yogurt lids in The Office Olympics episode.  I was a winner.  I had ordered contacts!  I can blink painlessly again!

Small victories, people.  It never hurts to celebrate the small victories.