Remember Sammy Davis Junior and his glass eye? Now I know how he felt.

Wearing these soft contact lenses is what I imagine a starfish might feel like clinging to my eyeball – they cling with suction cups and don’t move until I pry them off. When I dig my fingers into my eye sockets each night and pinch my fingers together, I pray I come out with only the flimsy contact and NOT my entire eyeball.

They are dry, they don’t float on my eye at all, and when I take them off at night my eyeballs take a good long stretch with a big yawn and an ass scratch.

I’m EXTREEMLY grateful that my optometrist just happened to have a pair of lenses in my prescription at his office so I didn’t have to endure my thick glasses all weekend at BlogHer, but I’m ready to get back into my trusty rigid gas permeables again. They float, they breathe, they pop out easily without any prodding – they are the playful dolphins of the contact world.

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