What?

7:32 a.m.

I SCOFF AT YOU, -30 DEGREE WIND CHILL.

So, my parents just called.

And.

My mom was all, we've been talking about it, and we want to do something for you. And I'm all....okay. Okay. What? And she's all, "We're saving up to get your eyes fixed."

And then the stunned silence. And then she said, "I mean, it'll be about a year. And we want you to get it done in St. Louis, with the doctor we researched. But your eyes are so bad, and we just want to do something for you. We did research, and we want to help you."

And then I cried.

I never talk about my eyes, but my vision is pretty poor. I've worn glasses since I was eight years old. My contact prescription is -9 in one eye and -8.5 in the other. I don't know how to describe that to someone with good vision, but I can say when I try to look at the alarm clock in the morning, which is about ten inches from my face, and then I get closer to about five inches, there is no way I can read it. I wear contacts now, but they bother me a ton, and a few mornings a week I am cursing and sometimes trying not to cry because they hurt so much when I put them in. In fact, once an eye doctor told me I shouldn't be an artist, because it was a stupid occupation for someone with my eyes.

Getting my eyes fixed was something I have always wanted to do, but in that "I want to go up in a hot air balloon someday" or "I'd like to make out with Owen Wilson" sort of way. I figured it would be years before I would spend that much on myself, what with the student loans payments being scheduled for the next twenty years. It didn't seem like something that would ever really happen, in my mind. Spending a lot of money on myself just didn't seem right. (Although making out with Owen Wilson is totally do-able.)

(Shut up.)

So.

OH MY GOSH.

I was pretty speechless, and I can't really comprehend it.

I can't really comprehend what it would be like to wake up in the morning and be able to see.

My parents are SO INCREDIBLE.

SO.

INCREDIBLE.

Love,
black sheeped