praise be to Harlem

I'm down to my last pair of two-week disposable contacts, and, somewhat embarrassingly, my mother has been buying my contact lenses for me from the time I started wearing them to, well, age 26. I now have health insurance (and have for nine days!), but I wasn't sure how to use it or whether I had any kind of vision benefits. I finally just walked into my local barrio optical shop, "Wizard of Eyes," got an immediate appointment, had a perfectly pleasant eye exam, and will be able to pick up my contacts tomorrow.

Adulthood comes in peculiar little quanta. I ran a company when I was 19 (not fantastically, but I was the only undergrad doing it at Dartmouth, even in the height of the dotcom era), but waited until I was 27 to see an eye doctor by myself.

I can't wait for prom!