I have been wearing my glasses for four weeks which make me feel like Timmy Mallet.
I had a lecture from the grumpy optician who didn't believe I wasn't drunk when I poked myself in the eye and after a bit of cajoling she reunited me with my contact lenses.
Next door to the opticians is an M&S Food. It felt rude not to go in and buy dinner. It's payday after all. We'll be eating beans on toast for the other 29 days of the month.
I decided to 'Dine in for £10' which really seems very reasonable until you wander the store and find a couple of other bits and pieces and the legendary Percy Pigs.
As the woman on the checkout put the wine through the scanner she looked at me and said "You are over 21 aren't you?"
There wasn't even a hint of irony in her voice.
I pretended to look behind me and did the whole mock "Who? Me?". Then I fell about in hysterics. I told her how hilarious that was. She eyed me suspiciously over her glasses. I've never been asked for proof of my age, not even when I was 13 and the best option in my group of friends for buying cigarettes, or 15 and buying cider.
I suggested in a jokey fashion that she visit the optician next door, she didn't flinch and watched as I wandered off chuckling to myself, muttering under my breath "21?".
I told husband when I got home about the crazy blind lady in M&S Food, he gave me a sideways glance ... I think he thought I was lying too.