I’m short-sighted. Not in the failing-to-anticipate-the-future sense (although yes, that too), but in the actual, medical i-need-to-wear-glasses-all-the-time sense. It is a pain in the arse. If I could afford lazer surgery, even the ick factor of being able to smell your own eyeballs burning would not deter me from throwing money in their direction and begging them to do it.
And yet… and yet…
You can get some pretty cool face furniture, these days. My current ones are purple and green, and I’m very fond of them. The fact that they cost nearly four hundred quid is neither here nor there…
But it actually is, isn’t it?
Gods, I’m such a schmuck.


Most of the time, I wear contact lenses.  Very useful little buggers. But even with them, my night-vision is dreadful.  The optician explained why, once upon a time – something to do with wider pupils allowing all the imperfections in my eyeballs to interfere with seeing…. And my non-augmented vision? Put anything further than about eight inches from the end of my nose, and the detail starts to blur. All I see at any distance is increasingly fuzzy blobs of colour. At night, I don’t see lights. I see lighter fuzz, or starbursts.
Last night, when I went to bed, I opened the window at the head of our bed and stared up into the crystal clear night sky. There was no moon, but (due to aforementioned crap night vision) I could only see a few stars, as well as one planet, which I believe to be Jupiter. I lay there gazing up and, as I often do, had to remind myself that what I was seeing was three-dimensional. It was deep and dark and vast and mostly empty. And very, very far away. I like that.  And then, I took out my contact lenses and looked again. Cue a wash of darkness, with sodium fuzzed around the lower edge, and one large ethereal, transparent orb floating in all that vastness. It was quite, quite beautiful.  And I am the only person on this earth that can see exactly what I saw.
That feels just a little bit special.