Glassies Come Home

I can't find my glasses. This is troubling to me because I use my glasses to see things and melt small plastic action figures. They aren't dolls; they are action figures. I usually have clear memories of when I took them off and where I put them but, even though I can recall that I existed yesterday, I have zero recollection of wearing them, taking them off or planting them firmly in between the cushions of the sofa.

I don't like losing things. I work hard at living firmly in a rut of repetitive behaviors and firmly entrenched habits. I know where I put things every day and the glasses are simply not there. I say 'simply' but it isn't simple. We are talking about a localized space-time rift that has swallowed up my glasses. This is decidedly not simple. I am stuck wearing my older glasses which are scratched, dirty and scratched. Now everything I see is scratched and old and angry because I can't find my other glasses. I have a sensory memory -- I connect things with experiences and so I can usually use visual triggers and relive a moment and retrace what I was thinking and doing. Yesterday has provided me with no memories. Seriously, I have no idea what I did yesterday afternoon. I know I sat outside, did some laundry and watched the Mets' best imitation of playing baseball, but nothing seems to be connected with either wearing or not wearing glasses. Maddening.

I will not buy new glasses. I don't deserve them and refuse to spend money rewarding myself for being irresponsible and not slavishly following my own well established foolish consistencies. If you think that this is the wrong way to approach the issue, feel free to contact me and make an appointment to come over and help me look. Meanwhile, let this serve as ample warning for anyone planning on being on the highway this afternoon or for the next 5 years.