The Remaining Gap Or Can't Someone Else Do It?

I was supposed to have an eye appointment this evening, but it had to be rescheduled for next week.
However, the appointment reminded me of the fact that when I made my “filling in the gaps” post a while back, there was one that I missed.
(Note that you didn’t miss anything as a result of my lack of posting yesterday. I worked, came home, dozed on the couch, watched TV, went to bed. Exciting stuff.)
In any case, on the day before Halloween I woke up in a bad mood, for no particular reason that I could identify. It was just a lousy, under a black cloud, hate world…revenge soon kind of day.
I told Scott, “I don’t want to do this anymore,” and went on to explain that by “this” I meant all of it: everything that’s involved in being Jon.
I had decided that 36 years of being Jon was long enough and that it was time to retire and let someone else do it. Meanwhile, I could start being Dave, or Steve, or anyone other than Jon.
Of course this wasn’t really an option, and realizing and understanding this fact made my mood even darker.
I wasn’t sure what time my eye appointment was, so I called the office to confirm, and ended up sitting on hold for an extended period of time.
Because I was still Jon, I was, of course, gracious and understanding about the whole hold time thing and said that it wasn’t a problem.
I’d put off going to the comic shop on Wednesday so that I could stop by there on Thursday, stop somewhere to get something to eat after that, and then go straight to my appointment.
Naturally I ended up getting stuck at work later than usual, so after stopping at the comic shop I really didn’t have enough time go figure out where I wanted to eat, go there, eat, and make it to my appointment on time.
So I skipped the eating part, which meant that I still ended up getting to the eye doctor’s early, getting progressively more pissed off about the nature of my Jon-ness and my inability to escape it.
I sat in the car for a little while sifting through my CDs to find one to replace what was currently in the CD player, and while I did so, some lady and her kids pulled up nearby. They got out of their car and one of the kids was blathering on about something, which prompted me to angrily mock him as I sat there.
I got out of my car and spotted a Lexus SUV, parked diagonally across four parking spaces, noted the “McCain/Palin” and “I [Heart] Palin” bumper stickers, and also the presence of a yappy little dog inside and found myself hating the world that much more.
To kill a few more minutes I went into the far too busy Giant to pick up a couple of things, brought them back to my car – yappy dog still yapping – and then decided that it was close enough and went into the eye doctor’s office.
I did take heart in noting that the lady and her kids, who, after my unnoticed mocking, had gone into the eye doctor’s office themselves, were leaving, so I wouldn’t have to put up with them and fight my urge to make fun of the kid’s high-pitched pre-pubescent voice while inside.
Once I went in I was greeted by the girl I’d talked to on the phone earlier, who once again apologized profusely about the hold time, and when I said once again that it wasn’t a problem, she said to one of the other girls working there, “He’s just the nicest person.”
I thought, “If you’d seen me in my car ten minutes ago, or were privy to the thoughts I had while I was in Giant, I think your assessment would be a bit different.”
At this point I need to go off on a bit of an aside. Years ago, when I lived in Ashburn and went to the office location there for all of my eye-related needs, I semi-successfully asked out the extremely attractive office manager who worked there. It was semi-successful in that we ended up going on two dates, but ultimately – and frustratingly – nothing really came of it.
The end result aside, the actual act of asking her out had been kind of an irritating and humiliating experience. I’d gone in for my appointment with the intention of asking her out, but my nerve failed me, and I left without following through on my plan. However, once I got to my car I smoked a cigarette, steeled myself, turned around and walked back towards the office. When I got there, I saw that she was at the desk alone, so, coasting on adrenaline, I burst in and headed towards her. Seeing me, she looked up, and concerned that there might be a problem, asked if something was wrong.
Before I could utter a word, another patient came in. I sighed and decided that total privacy was unobtainable, and started to make my pitch, just as the eye doctor – the owner/senior partner – came back up front to ask her about something.
So he ended up being there to observe the whole nervous mess.
Since I’ve been doing the gentle molding thing, I’ve been treated by one of the associates/partners, who is a pleasant enough woman, which has been good, because, while I recognize that the chances of him remembering that debacle – or at least that I was the person involved in it – are almost nil, I can’t help feeling uncomfortable around the practice’s titular doctor.
Naturally I ended up getting examined by him, which annoyed me, as did the realization that the whole “Ashburn Incident” was five goddamn years ago already.
This was annoying because a. how did five years go by so quickly? b. can’t I just forget about that nonsense already? and c. I really haven’t had a date since that time? *Sigh*
Still, I fought down all of the day’s annoyances and my black mood and stayed “in character” through the whole thing, which took a lot of effort and made me tired. Noticeably so, apparently, as the doctor suggested that after the exam I should go home and get some rest.
On my previous check-ups I haven’t been given any instructions as to how many nights I should have worn my lenses before going in, and this appointment happened to fall on the day after my night off. The doctor requested that I come back after having worn the lenses for a full four nights.
He also mentioned that, while it had been cleared away by my watering eyes in the course of the examination, I apparently have some sort of mucus build-up on my eyelids that can interfere with the production of tears (another fun part of being Jon: the grossness just doesn’t quit), and a good tear layer is essential to the gentle molding process, so he also wanted me to come back to have that checked out, and, if necessary, have my eyelids scrubbed, which just sounds like it’ll be a blast.
This is why I had an appointment for tonight, which has, as mentioned, been rescheduled for next week.
In any case, that fills the remaining gap.
For the curious among you, I woke up feeling considerably less hateful and desirous of retiring from the job of being myself the next morning.
Oh, and the Lexus and the yappy little dog were still there when I got out of my appointment more than a half an hour later.
As for today, it’s been much like yesterday, with the notable exception of my writing this entry.
Tomorrow night is, of course, Riff Trax night, though we’ll most likely start off the evening by watching Hellboy 2 on Blu-ray…after I stop by Target and buy it, at any rate.
Thursday is too much TV night, so you likely won’t be seeing any sort of substantive entries before Frida.