Recently, I went to the eye doctor, because I've had the same pair of glasses for 10 years and am long overdue for an update to my prescription. I picked out new frames, which I can pick up tomorrow and are really different from what have been my signature specs for a decade. I'm sort of freaking out about losing the old ones, which is, let's face it, probably a whole other entry under the same What-the-Hell heading.
Anyway, while I was there, he gave me some contact lens samples to try out in case I want to get some new contact lenses, too—and they're the kind where you have to peel back the foil to get to the lens, and that damn foil is always on there so tight that when the seal finally pops, it tends to squirt out some of the saline solution in which the lenses are stored.
Yesterday, as I was peeling open one of the samples, I thought: "This is gonna squirt at me," right before I felt myself deliberately not turning my head to avoid it. Sure enough—squirt! Right in the eye.
And I realized that I do this a lot: Instead of turning my head when I'm breaking a seal or squeezing a lime or peeling an orange or some other activity that is likely to result in eye-squirtage, like most people do, scrunching up their faces and leaning away or turning their heads in anticipation of the squirt!, I feel compelled to look. Eyes wide. Even when I know I'm gonna get it. Especially then.
It's like how vertigo can be associated with the almost-irresistible urge to jump from dizzying heights. I can't not look. I have squirtigo!
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