naked

i woke up yesterday at 7:35am.  which wouldn't have been a problem.  if it hadn't been a monday.

damn.

realizing too late that i'd set my alarm for p.m. rather than a.m., i shot up in bed home-alone style and yelled "i did it again!" (unfortunately, something similar had happened the week prior - don't worry, made it to work on time).



jumping out of bed, i hit the shower and was squeaky clean, blow-dried, and deodorant-ed in 15 minutes flat.  i snagged my gym bag, my purse, my keys, and peeled out of the driveway headed for the office.

i was only 4 minutes late.

it wasn't until i went to put my make-up on in the bathroom that i noticed how blurry everything looked.  squinting toward the mirror, it hit me: i had remembered everything.  except my glasses.

crap.

i first decided to wear glasses when i needed to see long-distance.  projectors, movies, sports events (not that i watch much of them), etc.  clear vision is also helpful when i'm behind the wheel (if only glasses would alert me of stationary objects behind my car...).

i used to opt for contacts, my vain self unable to stomach covering part of my face with metal and glass.  but i'm lazy.  which prompted me to learn the truth: glasses are the perfect, potentially stylish, accessory.

like a statement belt, glasses say something about who you are.  they can make you look more mature, more alert, more professional, and are also a perfect means of hiding sleepy eyes.  upon my first quest for some sexy glasses, i was asked, "what do you want your glasses to say about you?"  i compared my ideal eyewear with a sexy pair of heels, otherwise known as "come fuck me" (cfm) shoes.  i indicated i'd like a pair of cfm glasses.

(note: this does not mean i was whoring myself around.  but it doesn't hurt to flirt, right?)

thus began my love affair with glasses.  i wear them every day, and currently have a few pair that i switch out depending upon my mood.

unfortunately, and for the first time...maybe ever?...i forgot something that may, in all honesty, have been more important than remembering to wear underwear.  i left the house semi-blind, and worse:

i was naked faced.

before i wore glasses, i experienced what it felt like to the onlooker.  the uncomfortable viewer of the face nakedness.

when you're so used to seeing someone with accessories on their face, they look abnormal and somewhat incomplete without them.  their eyes look smaller.  their head shape looks different.  they look much, much more plain.

and exposed!

leaving the office restroom with make-up complete and normal hair (pretty baller for 15 minutes), i considered that perhaps no one would notice.  no big deal, perhaps think i'd done my hair differently if they picked up any change at all.

no such luck.

my ceo walked in and immediately yelled, "where's your goggles!?"  i shrugged it off, chatting with him briefly while he attended to a few items, but i definitely noticed lengthier-than-usual ganders at my face.  and i knew what he was thinking.

"her face looks uncomfortably naked."

it was noted at the grocery store.  by my usual fedex man.  it was even incorporated into the greeting i received at the gym that afternoon.

when i imagine myself, the glasses are negligible.  sometimes they're there, sometimes they're not, but i know what my face looks like.

have i worn glasses for so long that, without them, i am unrecognizable?  has my accessory taken me over?

and so i ponder.  do i re-route myself and opt for contacts, facing the world with a naked face until they get used to it sans-accessory?  or do i continue on in my love affair, picking up sexy specs to further suit my moods.  do i let the glasses do the talking?

or the final, preferred alternative: maybe i should just talk More.

(world, beware!)