One of the realities of living life is that there comes a time, every once in a while, when you have to make a life altering decision. The kind of decision where you sit down, look at yourself, and say: It's time.
I would argue that living life with skill means knowing when such a decision is to be made. And that is why, over the past few weeks I have been forced to face the awful truth: It's time for new glasses.
These faithful friends have been with me now for a while,
guiding my way by day and by night.
They have suffered over the years--have been sat upon, spat upon, commandeered by children. They have been super-glued, bent in inappropriate angles, fallen right off of my face. And yet, they have never once complained.
It is time to honor their service, and put them into retirement.
That means that there is a hefty question set before me: Whom shall I choose in their place? Glasses are a commitment, as they can easily define your identity to some degree. They are the things to greet people as you first meet, declaring elements of your personality you hadn't even thought to bring up.
And so, I find myself at an important moment in my journey, choosing these new life partners.
You can imagine my delight upon finding a company that sends out some trials, so that I can try them on, get to know them a bit, and make my choice wisely and well.
And, as you view the following candidates, you might also imagine the potential for fun we snapped right up:
There's these plum darlings,
square,
somewhat large.
There's mallard green,
not really all that different,
and large enough in order to clearly see.
There's the rounder possibility,
in striped sassafras
[reason enough to purchase: sass-a-fras...],
or the roundish ones,
in sandalwood matte.
And then,
[Remember the commandeering of children?
Well...guess what else she likes to commandeer?]
the squarish/roundish possibility, in greystone.
The time has come: Whom now shall I choose?
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