Last week was rough, y’all.

I started with high hopes and great expectations, after all one only turns 40 once – thank goodness.

I’d heard all the hoopla about saying “goodbye” to 39, but honestly, I never gave it much thought. To me, age really is just a number. But, when you compound it with the fact the eye doctor tells you it’s time for bifocals, it’s not a pleasant experience.

For a long while, I’d noticed issues after being in front of the computer all day or when trying to focus up close. Finally, it got to the point where it was difficult for me to function after print day. Plagued with terrible headaches, it took me a while to realize it wasn’t just stress bothering me. It was my eyes.

Sitting in the exam chair, I gave a quick rundown of the issues, and the doctor asked all the usual questions. Propping my chin in the cup as requested, he asked, “Which is better? No. 1 or No. 2?” As the exam continued, I realized how bad I couldn’t see and thought, “Well, 39 was definitely better than 40. I bet I’m going to need old lady glasses.”

And sure enough, I was right – bifocals.

While the lovely nurse assured me the visions of lined librarian glasses were a thing of the past, all I could think was, “My mother was right. She told me this day would come.”

However, I was glad to get the news I could try contacts. It took a bit for me to get the hang of it. I was thrilled with them. You don’t realize how much you don’t see until you see it. My headaches were gone, and I was hopeful. That ended Sunday with a trip to the emergency room because my contact was stuck to my eyeball with what felt like cement. My mother arrived only to drive me to the ER, where thankfully, the doctor was very nice and didn’t make me feel like a complete idiot.

Anyway, hello 40 – I hope our time together is better than the first few days. Those were rough.