After the puncturation of my eye on Friday, it seemed to be healing great until 6am this morning. Then, BLAM! Searing, ripping pain. So I went to the eye doctor this afternoon, and wouldn’t you know, he thinks it’s coming along just fine and looks good. Well, that’s fine for him to say, but it hurts! So am I crazy? I think maybe I’m crazy. I don’t know anymore. I told Michael to let me know if he catches me stabbing myself in the eye — just in case it’s a psychological thing that I am doing to myself without knowing it. Like maybe I have multiple personalities and the BAD BETH is stabbing my eye and the GOOD BETH can’t figure out what’s going on. OR maybe it is healing like it’s supposed to. WHO KNOWS? Certainly not me.
One thing that I do know is that I’m NOT shelling out $300 to see Madonna’s concert this time around. In fact, don’t cry for me, Mrs. Ritchie, but the truth is I never really loved you after all. So there. I had a whole big essay I was going to post here on the subject, but this EYE THING just trumps everything else, so that, as well as my treatise on the ULTIMATE MEANING OF THE UNIVERSE will have to wait.