“Pretty much spot on”…
…and other good ways for an optician to describe the glasses you’re wearing.
Buzzed over to D&A this morning (I say “buzzed;” I was there until the bank shut, which is going to slow everything down a bit). It seems there’s been some very minor shift in my left eye, but the difference is “less than half a lens” so it’s not actually worth changing my prescription. Win.
On the other hand, since they had a sale on, I’ve got some new glasses, because the frames on my normal ones are now three years old and getting a bit fatigued-looking. That and it’ll give me two pairs of glasses that have the anti-glare protection, which I anticipate being useful in the event that I get any insurance, ever. Which, to be fair, I will, it’ll just cost me lots.
It’s not the “costing lots” that I object to, per se, it’s more that the reason it costs lots is because they think I’ll use the car to get drunk and try and impress girls by doing dangerous things. I find that insulting; it’s like they think I’ve got to be 23 without realising that there are better ways to waste petrol than trying to make women fancy me. Pouring it down the drain, for instance, or into the water supply. Bah. I shall cough up nonetheless, and then fling the damn machine off the road when I fail, yet again, to tell my left from my right, I expect.
Anyway, I’m getting new glasses. More encouragingly, the optician woman seemed to think I was likely to stay on more or less the same prescription I have now for the forseeable future, which is a big step up from the last time I went and had lights shone at me.
I’m still finding work fun, and I’m still finding work tiring; come Thursday mornings I’m really having to struggle to get out of bed which, when I’ve got a reason to get up and start doing things, is unusual for me. I think, however, that I’ll get back into the swing of things relatively well; I’m still getting more sleep than I was when I was commuting from Wallingford, so I think it’s just a matter of adjusting to having a routine that revolves around more than “when the CoD4 servers are least busy.”
In other news, I was listening to, er, something, on the Radio yesterday, and caught a fabulous quote, viz:
“The Potteries, in the North of the West Midlands, are an unlikely setting for a revolution…”
Yes, that’s right, there’s never been a Revolution in the Midlands. All those integrated kilns and transport networks are just an example of a cottage industry that was allowed to get out of hand.
Well, it made me laugh. But then I had to slog though an entire Geography project on How The Industrial Revolution Changed The Area*. It seemed to involve a retail-cum-business park, but I could be remembering a different trip.
Ah well. On with the Weekend Tasks of Everything I Didn’t Do This Week…
*I didn’t actually do the project, I think I just handed in a few scrappy sheets of A4. But I was meant to do it, which is good enough for me.
Comments
Yes, I’ve often lamented the insurance situation, despite being rather removed from the whole game.
My Plan! [TM] is to have a national insurance company with whom all newly qualified drivers are required to register for their first, say, three years. The premium is fixed as an average of all the premiums so that you’re not unfairly discriminated and after those three years you are free to go to the other insurance companies (who can now see that these drivers are safe and charge them less with greater assurance of never having to pay out). It can make the government a bit of money and help out both the insurance companies and the people who don’t learn to drive when they’re middle-aged women.
The only reason I could see Big Insurance saying “Oh no no no no no” is because when they do get a safe youngster they make a Butload Of Cash (metric). But screw them, right?
Why is it unlikely that the Potteries should have a revolution?? If you read September’s History Today you will discover that Josiah Wedgwood was INSTRUMENTAL, I say INSTRUMENTAL, in the revolution in working practices which made the technological advances effective. If people had had the machines but had buggered off for Potters’ Fortnights every other month productivity would have remained pretty damn low. How insulting. You’ll also discover Potteries information if you are ever
stupidfortunate enough to visit me at the parental home, as it’s a rare visitor who escapes the Trip to Gladstone phenomenon.Bad form that radio show.
For pity’s sake, not even my basic hard-won html rememberings work on your blog. It fails. Don’t explain why, people: it will be effort wasted. Only suspend disbelief and accept that the word ‘stupid’ in my previous comment has a strikethrough, whatever your faulty eyes may tell you.
Struckthrough.
No idea why it didn’t work, but I’ve gone in and forced a strikethrough anyway. Mwahaha, &c.
I went on a trip to a working pottery of some description, once. It was somewhere Stokeish (see how I cleverly avoid having to remember what the towns are), and I think it may’ve been rather fun.
Of course, the school Failed, somewhat, in the sense that a pack of 14-year-old boys only know one response to being told about a Bottom Knocker, and that is to shove each other, and snigger, but I enjoyed it, for all that I didn’t get to make a wobbly cup like I did at Coalport!
O, and Matt: Yep, screw ’em.
My Clever Plan To Screw The Insurance Companies is already heading on apace, as it happens!
Once I can drive places I intend to get life insurance, drive to a river, hire a canoe, and dissapear, living like a remarkably familiar-sounding scallyway on the insurance money. (Until I’m photographed in the South Of France, or someplace exotic, and then use that photo of me Abroad as my Facebook profile, anyway)
Gah I wish my eyes would stabalise already. Every 6months or so I buy new lenses, and bearing in mind that I wear varifocals, its damn expensive. The lenses alone cost hundreds. I seem to spend most of my time either in the opticians, or in the hospital having them puff bits or air into my eyes as they try to work out, why at 20, I need varifocals to see anything.
Wow. That does seem kinda weird.
Not that I can contribute any actual knowledge at all, but are they just getting consistently worse, or jumping about the prescriptions, or what?
Who’re you getting tests from?
My Mum’s opticians used to test my eyes (shes a dispensing optician thingy and used to own her own practice) so I generally trusted them. Then for a while the hospital tested them, and now I tend to go where ever my Mum is working. My prescription jumps constantly though I’m always long-sighted, however, I cant focus on anything thats within hands reach, or far away. Basically, the muscles in my eyes that should tighten (to help me read) dont, and we’ve tried all sorts to make them work, so until I buckle and ask for the icky operation to fix it, I’m stuck with varifocals. I dont want anyone operating on my eyes thanks!
I’ll do it. I’ve got a penknife.
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