Well, boys and girls - I've been debating whether or not I should reveal this latest "adventure" on a public blog. It will confirm the absolute chaos in my wretched life and raise serious questions about my sanity (if indeed I still have any).
My entire life has been filled with unconventional incidents, catastrophic occurrences, chaotic catastrophes, and a generous share of wild adventures.
I thought that as I grew older and attempted to live a simple, uncomplicated existence things would calm down. I was wrong.
My life here in the Tennessee wilderness is fraught with problems, inconveniences, and complications.
I valiantly try to downplay the negatives on this blog - but it ain't easy.
It's no secret that one of the inconveniences I despise most is the long drive into town on a narrow, perilous mountain road. The very thought of navigating it sends me into spasms of acute anxiety.
Last Friday I had to drive into town. There was no way to avoid it.
I was low on supplies, my car (desperately) needed gas, I had some personal business to take care of, and - most importantly - I had to get a postal money order for some new contact lenses.
I order my contact lenses from Canada. Since I no longer have a credit card I'm compelled to pay with a money order (it's the only alternative payment method they accept).
I desperately need new contacts because one of my lenses recently ripped in half. All I currently have left to see with is an ancient pair of glasses.
I wasn't too thrilled with the idea of driving to town wearing my old glasses but I had no choice.
I was still pondering this when I sat on the edge of my bed - not knowing that my glasses were there until I felt the crunch under my ass.
Leaping up in a panic, I saw the pulverized remains of the only source of vision enhancement that I had.
I'm extremely nearsighted and can't see a herd of elephants two feet away without contacts or glasses.
So, here I am in the wilderness with no glasses, ONE contact lens, and an urgent need to drive into town.
After considering all the alternatives (which were nearly non-existent) I decided to tackle the dilemma head-on:
I guzzled a few beers for courage, popped the one contact lens into my left eye, and got into the car.
Within minutes I'm navigating the harrowing mountainous curves while peering through a grimy windshield and desperately trying to see with one contact lens.
As I'm squinting like Popeye and praying that I won't go over a cliff, I happen to see (with my left eye) the bright red ROAD CONSTRUCTION sign.
I've lived here for four friggin' years and never saw a smidgen of construction work being done on the mountain road. To say it's ironic is an understatement.
For the next six miles, I'm straining my left eye to avoid hitting construction workers, ramming into steamrollers, and running through freshly-laid patches of tar.
By the time I got to town I was not only catatonic, I needed a crowbar to pry my fingers from the steering wheel.
I won't bore you with details about my one-eyed trip to the gas station, the bank, the post office, or Walmart....
.....but I will say that it's a slight challenge to do one-eyed grocery shopping in a crowded supermarket. Thanks to the long and grueling drive, my normally bad back gave out completely and caused an excruciatingly sharp pain in one of my legs.
I could hardly limp and squint my way to the checkout line.
Let's cut this tedious blog post short (or is it too late?). I won't reveal any details about my drive home - except to say that I did a lot of cursing....and praying.
Not to mention squinting.
A grim postscript:
After I mailed my order to the contact lens company I realized that I made a horrendous mistake when filling out the order form (with one eye). I now have to contact Customer Service and try to get it all straightened out.
