Today I got half-way to work before realizing that I had never put my contacts in. So I had to turn around and go home and then be even later than usual to work. It's a real downside to being farsighted. I could work without glasses or contacts, but I'd have a giant headache in a couple of hours and people might look at me funny since I'd be reading things with my left eye closed so that it could not interfere with my right eye's ability to do all the damn work around here.
Being farsighted also makes eyebrow plucking a rather challenging task. So I try to do this only when I have my contacts in since without them there's a lot less plucking than there is just repeatedly stabbing myself in the face with tweezers. But a little while back, I had been wearing my glasses for a few days in a row and the plucking had to happen and I wasn't about to put in my contacts just for the purpose of doing my eyebrows, so I made an attempt. And there was this one stray above my right eyebrow that I just could not get. Until I realized what was in fact happening here. I was trying to pluck a wrinkle. Ok, "fine line".
The thing is, I have long been prepared that due to the squintiness, I was going to have the mother of all laugh lines, and I was just going to deal with it. What I did not see coming were lines above my right eyebrow from all of the arching. See, this is my arching brow. This has become so natural a reaction for me to so many things that I do not realize I am even doing it a lot of the time. But my skin? Has noticed.
Upon further inspection, I notice that I have also developed a distinct line to the left of my mouth, but not to the right. I didn't know until a few years ago that my smile starts to the left and then spreads to the right, should the situation warrant it. Melinda, a really hilarious person who used to work for me, pointed this out. She said she could tell how funny I thought she was by the stages of my reaction. Which apparently are: left smile, whole smile, eyes squint, eyes disappear, tears. Because Melinda was so hilarious and because I was very, very sleep deprived by that job, tears were a frequent occurrence. Such as when we were discussing a not-great decision we had made and she said, "we are smart's cousin, not smart" and I cried for days and days about how funny that was.
This is really not intended to be a Woe. Misery. Despair. post, so I don't need a lot of "you look fine!" and "wait until you're my age!" comments. If wrinkles are the price I must pay for laughing often and refusing to inject rat poison into my face, then so be it. I just hadn't realized that mine would be so...quirky. I suppose it's better than having the same wrinkles as everybody else. Who would want their aging to be so prosaic, so pedestrian?
Just keep telling yourself that, Lori. That'll make it true.