Need a Dispensah Here

          This was me today. After months of darkness I finally replaced the lightbulbs in my room. I then kept the wood stove stoked, moved a ton of dishes, made sure my college bills were in order, dug up the VCR, organized my room, mailed Iris a letter, read the seeds of Matt's new story, bought my mother chocolates for her birthday, got little gifts for a few Huskies, figured out how to make anti-sliding pads for my bed, read a letter from my aunt Kathy, got an eye exam and new glasses, withdrew some guap from the bank, had a family dinner out and then went over to Katharine's, all while entertaining Iris via text. And all of this in time to go to bed at ten o'clock. To conclude: I do work.
          Apologies to Katharine, whose man cave I passed out in after a brief round of the Cow Game. I was up for about twenty hours at that point and my strength was totally sapped. Which is a funny choice of words considering the above image. I digress.

          Some pretty funny stuff happened today. At my appointment, I was greeted by a new optometrist named Dr. Brown. He loves to talk, and was especially hyped on their less than two week old machine, a device which actually photographs the inside of your eye. Dr. Brown showed me these images, which I met with an odd combination of fascination and total squick. "Look! There are all the blood vessels coming out of your blind spot! It's kind of like a hole in the back of your eye." He pulled up my patient records, and there was a spot that said "Iris Category," and for a moment I was like, "what does she have to do with this?"
          Later, he explained my myopic vision in terms that made me feel like a Viking badass. "Do you know why you wear glasses? Not just because your eyes need correction, but the actual reason why? You wear them because in your DNA, from your conception, your eyes were destined to be too powerful." I swear that my muscles rippled a little bit at that one.
          I replaced my old glasses with an updated prescription, though the frame is similar. I've always had a bit of a fantasy about finding big, chunky glasses that look good on me, but it doesn't seem to be in the cards. I might get a pair of prescription aviators, though, so any glasses-related discontent would surely vanish in that event.

          I got Ryan a holographic 100-piece puzzle for Christmas, specifically the Death Star trench run scene from Star Wars. "Oh ho," you think. "A hundred pieces! How childish!" It turned out to be the kids' puzzle from hell. It took the combined abilities of Ryan, my mother and I to assemble it and we took about forty minutes. This was complicated by the inability of the others to comprehend the holographic effect, and the strictly earth-and-fire-tone-only nature of the puzzle.
          We had dinner at the newly renovated Red Lobster, which now has a surprisingly upscale atmosphere. Dinner was going smoothly as I gobbled down garlic butter roll after roll, when I received a fateful text from Ian: "Guy to my front right looks like akon". I stole a glance, and truly, a god walked among us. Akon's body double was wining and dining a lady in the next booth.
          On the way home, my father talked about a call he got with a work offer. "So-and-so was on the phone. He works in drilling and blasting." Ian and I exchanged a look. What an amazing job description! Just think about it. "I work in an office." "I'm in the business of drilling and blasting." "Well, my company analyzes risk in the stock market." "I drill and blast." It must be hard to walk with such enormous balls.