Yesterday, I ran over my glasses.

I didn’t hear the sound over the car’s motor, but I can imagine it went something like this.

“Crrrrr-uuuunch.”

They must have fallen out of my purse when unloading from a family trip to the cottage. When I nipped out for some onions later in the day, I must have run them down.

One lens is smashed to bits, the frame bent to oblivion. The other is relatively unscathed – for what it’s worth.

These babies had three corrections – long, medium, short distance (yes, I’m a complicated typist) – and a further grind so the transition from correction to correction would not make me feel seasick.

All of this = $800 worth of eye wear.

Crushed under the tire of a car.

Argh. And now I can’t see properly. Double Argh.

So now the question is: are the Typist’s glasses half empty or half  full?

You tell me.