If I hadn’t been born in the twentieth century, I would have been wolf-meat by now. Seriously — I’m the blind animal that gets left behind when the rest of the herd runs from the predator — because I can’t see more than six inches in front of me without glasses.
This is normally not a problem — I have contacts, and glasses as backup. Only sometimes, the new glasses & contacts are on their way, leaving me without backup, and some beauty product that weighs approximately two ounces falls on my glasses in a feat of physics that snaps my glasses in half, rendering me, for all intents and purposes, BLIND.
I called Matt from work, begged him to come home and help me, and this is the result:


Yah. But you know what, lemons? Now I can cover my glasses in black and gold electrical tape, and people will think I am an *even better* Steelers fan. Oh yah, I’m makin’ lemonade!
(Also, when Matt steals my iPhone, I should pose, instead of continuing to beg him to put the phone down…)












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