As a writer you'd think I'd have a great story for the eye.
By the way, it's gotten a bit uglier.
On Sunday night my eye fooled me into thinking that I might be able to hide the faint lavender shadow with plenty of makeup.
But then I woke with a scarlet clown tear above the lavender crescent moon. And all hope was lost of keeping it under wraps.
So. I have the avoiders. They look at me. Look away, look back and stare at "the eye."
The direct questioners. "So, did you tick off your husband?" "Ha.Ha.Ha."
And the ones who interact with me, then suddenly, apparently, they notice I have a shiner. "Whoa! What happened to you?"
One of my doctors falls in the latter category. Our conversation went like this.
"What did you do to yourself?"
Laugh. "Why do you think I did it to myself?"
"I think I know you pretty well."
Fair enough we have worked together for awhile."So I smashed my car door into my face."
"Ouch."
"Yeah. And would it surprise you to know that I was talking and distracted when I slammed my face into the car door, or vice versa?"
He laughed. "No, not really."
"I'm going to take all that as a compliment. So don't ruin it for me."
"So," He said as he was heading back to his office, "did you do this last night?"
"No, the day before."
He stopped. His eyebrows rose and he looked pensive. "Didn't I talk to you yesterday? And you had it then?"
"Yep."
"Wow. I guess I'm a man. Huh?"
Uh yeah.
But I will forgive him for that. Because I carry on as if nothing is abnormal with my face until I get a glimpse in the mirror. Whoa. Send in the clowns, don't worry their here.
