For some reason I thought today was Thursday. I’m not really sure why. I
mean, I’m not in school anymore, so the days do tend to blur together. But I
woke up this morning convinced it was Thursday. Which brought up the
question in my mind of what happened to Wednesday (or Tuesday) because I
seemed to have missed a day. But Thursday it was, or so I thought, and
nothing could be done about my memory.

Actually, I woke up this morning at 6 am with a splitting headache. Well, to
say I woke up would imply that I had been asleep. And although consciousness
had not been a part of my existence up until that point, I had not been
sleeping well at all. I thought when I’d gone to bed with a headache that
all I really needed was some rest, but the pain evidently prohibited me from
getting anything like that. So at 6, I was in way more pain than would allow
slumber.

Finally, I got up and, repeating “I feel fine” to myself to keep the contents
of my stomach where they were, stumbled to the bathroom, where I fished out
the bottle of prescription painkillers from my dopkit and downed one with
some water from the sink. Then it was back to my bed and what seemed like an
hour of writhing in pain, waiting for the drug to take effect. Repeating my
matra once again and hoping very hard that whatever was in my stomach would
not end up on the floor, I went over to my dresser and pulled out a black
sock. Then returning to my bed and laying it over my eyes, I finally found
release in sleep.

When my alarm went off, I turned it off and continued to sleep. Perhaps this
is what made me lose track of what day it was.

In any case, I showed up at Lens Crafters for my appointment at 2 pm on
Thursday. Even though it was actually Wednesday. They didn’t seem to mind.
The doctor saw me fairly quickly. and told me to quit complaining about
things being blurry in my right eye at a large distance. She could give me a
stronger prescription, but that would make my eyes have to work harder up
close. “Oh, if you put it that way,” I answered. She even put up the 20/15
line of the chart up, and although it was blurry, I could still read it fine.
“See?” she said, “You see better than I do. Are you an engineer?” she
asked, “Engineers always come back complaining because they’re so precise.”

I suppose I should call them tomorrow and tell them, “Hey, listen. I was
supposed to come in today, but I came in yesterday instead.”