24 September 2013
I’m trying to figure out how important it is to me to see clearly, and I’ve decided, not that important. The only thing I want to see clearly is type. Real life looks fine a little blurry. So now I’m wondering how bad a sign this is for my character and whether it’s some horribly accurate metaphor for my entire life.
All this brought on by open enrollment for my vision coverage at work, how I could upgrade and get fancy glasses with expensive frames and progressive lenses instead of the bifocals I have now that I only wear now and then because I can’t walk up and down stairs in them or look at my computer screen.
Also, Teresa told me that once you get used to the progressive lenses you pretty much have to wear them all the time, and that sounds like a pain. I can read okay without glasses, and as for driving, well, I make my way. And my complexion looks a lot better without them.
Enzo just got up and sat in my lap in the quiet dark, sideways with his feet tucked up in a loose fetal. He said he dreamed he was at school and Keelan was a zombie, and he let Keelan bite him, and then he turned into a zombie too, with glowing green eyes and hands that were all—and he made claw-hands—but it wasn’t scary and the bell rang for lunch—ding! ding!—and he turned back into a human.
I said that was good because zombies only eat humans for lunch, and that wouldn’t be very Waldorf.
We only get about half of each other’s jokes.
That was yesterday. This morning he tells us that he had a good dream. “Lex Luther wanted me to steal but I didn’t. And he told me there’s a new fancy hideout in Chicago, and I had to go for, like, ten states to get to Chicago.” Then I think he switched to a bad dream, or maybe it was the same dream gone bad. Anyway, “We saw a sign that said there were wolverines and they could attack people. We spotted one all…” and he curls up on the couch with his head tucked to show how it was hidden “…just like totally black. Teresa spotted it. The bad dream was pretty scary. Plus it was mountain climbing, and I almost fell quite a few times.”
Dreams are almost impossible to tell, and then from telling to writing, even though I took my notes as he was talking, who knows?