Eye strain, you strain, we all strain for...

The Olympics are over, and now my life must return to normal. Boo.

I buy myself a new pair of eyeglasses every two years. Ever since I managed to find a job that provides medical insurance, I make it a point to take care of my eyes. I come from a long line of glasses-wearers, and we couldn’t always afford them. All I could manage was a single pair to carry me through eight years of college because Warby Parker couldn’t have been bothered to start their business in a decade convenient for me.

Pffft. Jerks. 

This year, I thought I’d gift myself blue light lenses. It made sense, since I’m a writer and most of my day (almost everyone’s these days) is spent staring blankly at a screen. It’s often until late at night, because I want to finish current projects and move on to others. When I’m not doing that, I’m dealing with my decision to read every 900-page book that’s been written. Worse, I’ve rediscovered my love of video games.

My eyeballs are going through some shit.

These lenses are amazing. I don’t feel much eye strain at the end of the day. No headaches. Better, for the past week, I have had the most insane and vivid dreams.

I love to sleep and I love to daydream, so for me dreaming is brain candy. It’s what kept me sane through college. The REM cycle is my happy place. Last night, I dreamed I took part in this weird adults-only retreat to a remote part of Canada where people were put into teams and were expected to solve various problems and puzzles. Simple stuff, like taking six boards and a few bricks to create a ten-foot bridge that everyone could walk across. We did weird leadership shit like this in the Army, so it wasn’t anything off the wall, but it was certainly an introvert’s nightmare. Everything went well until we discovered we were all under surveillance and being hunted by super wealthy sociopaths whose only weapons were money, manipulation, and disinformation. For example, one member of my team was paid to pretend he was blind just so he could get physically close enough to one or two of us that a gentle push would send someone clattering down the mountainside.

Of course, the dream ended when we found out our blind friend wasn’t blind. But until then, it was glorious B-movie schlock. I loved it.

Are there writing updates? Not really. I’ve been mostly brainstorming fixes to a sagging middle section of the second of three books. I think I have a solution. I’m just not feeling terribly inspired to write it. Early springtime has always put me into a demotivated funk. Current events haven’t helped much.

Anyway, buy blue light lenses.