It was funny if you were there. Well, not really. Mostly this whole event was just pathetic. Kind of like this post.

Some of you may have noticed that I have been posting/tweeting/facebook status updating about migraine headaches.  This is because I have had migraine headaches.  Often these headaches are accompanied by weird vertigo and imbalance, so much so that the other day while I was getting lunch on campus, I thought there was an earthquake and that we were all going to die and I didn't know why no one else was freaking out.  But I WAS.  I was freaking out.  Internally, though, because if I'm gonna die a horrible death in a natural disaster, I'm going to be composed.  Like, "Oh, look, Humphrey.  The floor is splitting open beneath us.  How jovial!"

I do not know who Humphrey is.  In my imagination, there is a Humphrey, apparently.

Anyway, the last time I had a bout of these headaches, it was because my eyes suck and they can't see anything and so they wanted me dead and told my brain to hurt.

Clearly, my inability to see anything whatsoever was causing my migraines, and the doctor was all, "Here are contacts," and then I got better!

So this recent bout of migraines naturally spurred me on over to the eye doctor, who prescribed me new contacts, different contacts.  I now have a different prescription for each eye, because one of my eyes is kind of stupid.

At the doctor's office, my eyeballs were poked and measured and made to do all kinds of tests that they hadn't studied for.  You know those charts they show you at the eye doctors office?  The ones with all the little letters?  Those charts always make me feel like failure.

I always feel really bad for my eyeballs after I take those tests.  It's not their fault that they suck.  Some things just can't be explained, like magic and long division.

So the nurse was all, "Do you want your eyes dilated, or do you want to come back later?" and I was all,"DILATE ME UP" cause I wasn't going to come back to the dumb doctor just to get my dumb eyes dumb dilated dumb. 

As we were leaving the office, I suddenly found it difficult to, like, see.  Also, my eyes looked like aliens and they were basically sucking all the light in the world into themselves so that I was like, "WHAT THE HECK MIGRAINES HURT AND THIS HURTS AS WELL."

And then my mom was like, "Let's go to Costco!  We need to get your prescription!" and, um, it's Costco.  So of course I was practically wetting my pants with excitement. 

As we entered Costco, I traipsed happily over to the glasses section and got super excited about getting my first pair of glasses ever.  The guy behind the counter pointed me to the women's glasses section, and then I encountered a problem, being that I couldn't freaking see anything.  So there I was, the glasses guy staring at me and trying to be helpful and ready to offer suggestions or tell me how awesome I looked in my glasses and I just stood there, unable to tell which blurry smudge I should put on my face but too embarrassed to admit it, pretending like I was just extremely picky.  Then I yanked a pair off the stand and put them on, because asking for help was just out of the question, of course.

Fortunately my mom saved me from buying the ugliest glasses in existence.  I still don't know what my new glasses will look like.  I hope they're made of bacon.

Wait.  No I hope they aren't, because then I will eat them and be blind again.

After ordering my glasses, my mom and I walked around taking in the wonder and glamor that is Costco.  Every now and then she would see something apparently amazing on one of the many t.v.'s and say, "WHOA Megan isn't that cool?" and I would be sadface because I couldn't see.

The dilation of my eyes was such that anything too close or too far away was a blurry mess, but there was a perfect point in my line of vision that enabled me to get a clear shot of an object.  Because of this, I was able to see a shiny stack of CDs and simply could not help myself and was all, "OMGOMGOMGOMG SUSAN BOYLE OMGHERNEWCHRISTMASCD!!" which is funny because I don't own a single Susan Boyle CD but for some reason it was of tantamount importance that I stop walking and spend ten minutes trying to read the back of the disc case.

Of course, my mom had moved on by then, not noticing I wasn't with her, and I got lost.  It was at this point that my bladder was like. "HI.  I exist and I have needs." and I really really needed to find a restroom except that I couldn't read a freaking thing.

Is that a sign on the wall?  Does it say restrooms?  Or is it a picture?  Or perhaps a decorative neon light?  Or maybe it's absolutely nothing.  (It was absolutely nothing.)

I wandered around Costco, pretending like I was a totally capable human being.  Oh look!  A thing!  A thing that I need to buy because I'm adult and not in any way physically compromised right now!  I want this...um...vaccume cleaner pipe. Yeahhh...

Finally my mom found me and I asked her to tell me where the bathroom was and she sighed like I was five and pointed across the store and then walked toward what I can only assume was the entrance of Costco because after that I was pretty much alone.  I directed myself toward the bathroom and found it out of sheer luck.  However, to one side was a sign and to another was another sign.  I was fairly certain one said "men" and the other "women" but I couldn't tell.  My brow became quizzical.  I squinted and sighed and twined my hands in my hair nervously and eventually I chose the door that bore (what I thought) was the longer wording.

Apparently I chose correctly, because there were no urinals.  Although it's possible that there were urinals and I just thought they were sinks.  And that the men in the restroom were too shocked by my appearance to say anything.  Either that, or they felt pity for me, because I'm positive I looked fairly pathetic.

And then everything was okay and I got a magical unicorn and rode off into the sunset.

(You can tell that I got tired of writing this because that is not at all what happened.  The end.)