How do I know this? Because I had to get bifocals. Sigh.
I didn't want to. But things were getting a little (ok, a LOT) blurry around the edges and I realized I couldn't keep looking over my glasses at the computer (mainly because it hurt). Nor could I reach far enough away to hit the keyboard and see the screen clearly. And I have the arms of an orangutan. Seriously, my ballet teacher in college said, 'you have unusually long arms for a woman' and I didn't punch him in the face - not even once.
As an author - I NEED to be able to see my computer screen. I don't want to have to go back to a typewriter or pen and pencil - although I'd probably have the same problem there. So what do I do? I ask my friends and family.
Two people said, "Get multifocal contacts! You'll hate them for a couple of weeks, but then you'll love them!"
Four people said, "Get no line bifocals! You'll hate them for a couple of weeks, but then you'll love them!"
My eye doctor said, "Get progressive bifocals! They're like trifocals. You'll hate them for a couple of weeks, but then you'll love them!"
Too many options, but interestingly - the same result. Every single person I asked said I'd hate them first, then love them. That didn't sound good. I needed to write during those two weeks. I guess I could have dictated to my teenage daughter and then hide my irritability as she uses the two-finger hunt and peck method. I could do that Dragon software where you talk to the computer and it types it out - but then I have terrible luck with Siri on my phone. When I say, "Call my husband," she always asks me if I want to, "All lie fluffpin."
I had no choice. I had to get them. Things were dire! Which means, when an author says that, things were actually mildly annoying. Even though he was the only one who said so, I decided to go with my doctor's advice because, quite frankly, he should know more about it than that woman I keep running into at the grocery store, who's name I can't remember.
I'm on my third week now. And you know what? Every single person was right. Advice that sounded like it came from a sci-fi hive mind of Stepford Wives turned out to be true.
I hated them, and now I love them. Now I just have to stop falling down when I use the stairs. Then everything will be perfect.