Though today's optometrist said something that nobody before has ever mentioned: they'd have to have got me in glasses by about age three to do a damn thing about correcting (as in actually healing) the astigmatism in my right eye. S'cuse me if I no longer feel guilty for getting the plain lens on the right for the last 15 years, in order to avoid the headaches* that the superstrong prescription used to give me.
*(Except part of me suspects that the headaches may have been carsickness, since at that age I was always trying to read in the car, and hadn't yet figured out that I can't, because I get motion-induced nausea/headache. If I had lots of extra money, I'd get two new pair of glasses, one with the full prescription in the right eye, and one plain like I usually get, for comparison purposes. But I don't, and I'd hate to buy only a prescription lens and then find out that no, they really do still give me headaches.)
Oh my god all the frames they had were hideous. I know the 'sexy intellectual chick' half-glasses are all the rage, but they were all like that, and that's what I want to get away from, because they're not big enough for my face. Glasses are not for peering over; they are for hiding behind. And the only pair in my beloved circa-1987 plastic that were remotely big enough to not make me feel like my giant moon face was looming out from behind two tiny bits of glass, only came in candy-cane pink. Um. No. So I settled for wire-rims that are slightly too gold and make me look sort of fluffy and dazed, but at least I look smaller than them, instead of the other way round. I pick them up in about 10 days.
Also I bought underwear.
Over to you, Chet.
ETA: and while I was there I forgot to check around for the window insulating kit that TBQ recommended, because I am an idgit.