I haven’t been sleeping well lately. It’s been a hectic mix of neurotic ideas, swirling around my subconscious until they burst forth, unbidden, and under appreciated. In retrospect, they’re quite funny, though at the time they made me shake uncontrollably in apprehension.

So I had an eye doctor appointment today. I have terrible eyes – poor vision, and I am high risk for severe vision problems. Consequently, it is critical that I see a doctor annually to ensure tragic things do not happen. Inexplicably, I developed a cold sense of dread around this particular appointment. Logically, it would make more sense to fear not seeing a doctor, as the risk of the unknown was inherently more threatening. Fear doesn’t respond well to logic, it just gets more absurd.

My malevolent subconscious had me convinced that not only was my (new) eye doctor trafficking in black market body parts and organs, but that he has designs on my eyes, despite never having met me. I was convinced that he was working in collusion with my other eye doctor (who had referred me), and that they were going to cut out my eyes and sell them for a mint on the black market.

I would either, invariably, end up with soulless empty eye sockets, destined to poverty and self pity, or my mutilated corpse would be discovered slowly, in unidentifiable pieces around the city. I then went on to think that if I had a small dog, that would somehow protect me from this fate, because the tiny, tiny dog, would somehow be clever enough to foil these villainous doctors.

Now, because you’re not completely insane, you’ve already identified the largest logical failure in a sea full of them. Yes, given your knowledge of my horrendously awful vision, what would these nefarious characters possibly hope to gain from stealing my eyes?

In actuality, not only was my doctor awesome, he told me to relay a message to manfriend:

“Stop being a dick. Don’t make fun of your girlfriend when she sneezes in sunlight.” It’s not an allergy. It’s a real condition called Autosomal Dominant Compelling Helio-Ophthalmic Outburst Syndrome (ACHOO), or Photic Sneeze Reflex. Suck it, baby.

Me: You’re going to be mad at me.
Manfriend: What, why?
Me: I’m hungry.
Manfriend: What? Go to bed. It’s time for bed.
Me: See? See the anger?
Manfriend: Get your ass in bed now. That’s ridiculous. Let’s go.
Me: What’s more ridiculous is how hungry and awake I’ll be at 3 am.
Manfriend: There is nothing to eat. What would you eat?
Me: The mini bagels in the freezer.
Manfriend: Fine, eat your stupid bagel and come to bed.

… I would still eat at McDonald’s.