Bottled Sky

My parents got me LASIK eye surgery for my birthday this year. My dad and I both had it done last Friday, and now for the first time in 15 years I have 20/20 vision. It’s quite easily the best birthday gift ever.

Like most of the things I do I didn’t give the surgery much thought beforehand, and it was only when I lay down on the surgical table that it sunk in that I really was having part of my corneas vaporized. So for a moment I was nervous, but I got over it in literally 2 seconds. This was basically how it went down in my head:

Stage 1:  Nonchalance - “Surgery? No big deal!”
Stage 2:  Momentary nerves - “No shit! I’m really doing this!”
Stage 3:  Gung ho recklessness - “Bring on the lasers!”

The procedure itself was painless and it took only about 5 minutes per eye. The first few hours following the surgery was a bitch, though. The pain was bearable, but my eyes teared up continuously and automatically so I just kept them closed until we got home. I functioned remarkably well for a (temporarily) blind person in pain, if I do say so myself. I managed to walk quickly and smoothly from the American Eye Center, which was located in a busy shopping mall, all the way to the car with only a relaxed hold on my aunt’s hand to guide me. I was even able to feed myself takeout food in a moving vehicle.

I did, however, drop some macaroni salad down my cleavage at one point. Picture me blindly fishing pasta out of my bra in traffic with automatic tears flowing from my stinging eyes. Of course I had to giggle a little despite the pain. Wouldn’t you? It was just as hilariously absurd as my tearful toast-eating experience!

Here’s some more hilarious absurdity. My parents and I discovered that I had astigmatism when I ran into our garage wall when I was 7 — poor eyesight equals impaired ability to judge distances. I was running to greet my parents as they came home from work one night when it happened. It was like “Mommeeeeeeeee—SMACK!” My two front teeth collided with cement. Good news: no blood. Bad news: chipped tooth. Bottom line: at least we became aware that I needed glasses.

You know what, I take it back. There was no bad news about that whole incident. I’ve always liked the little nick in my tooth. I think it gives my smile character *grins cheekily* And with my newly restored vision, I see only more reasons to smile.

P.S. Yes, I am in a very good mood

Write legibly. This is your last-ditch effort to save your own neck. Good luck. (You will need it *evil laughter*)

True or False:
1. Stress builds character.
2. Sometimes you just have to hit something (or someone).
3. The compulsion to procrastinate is a psychological disorder.
4. If it weren’t for the last minute, nothing would ever get done.
5. Caffeine is a UP student’s best friend.

Multiple Choice:
1. This semester has been…
a) …completely unmotivating.
b) …the source of all stressful things.
c) …a blight in Nikki’s academic record.
d) …simply a pain in the ass.

2. The best thing about this semester…
a) …is that it’s over.
b) …only exists in the minds of overly optimistic freaks.
c) …is the character-building stress. (Isn’t sarcasm fun?)
d) …is that it’s OVER. (Did you not see this choice the first time?!)

3. The best way to relieve stress is to…
a) …fall into a Tequila-induced stupor.
b) …inflict pain, preferably on someone connected with your stress.
c) …engage in smutty activity.
d) …shop up a storm.

Prove through Computation:
The speed at which time flies is directly proportional to the amount of trouble one will be in if he/she fails to complete the task he/she is currently rushing to finish.

Essay Question:
You lost your momentum and what little motivation you had for school, thanks to a three-week flu that wreaked havoc on your immune system and caused you to miss a ridiculous number of classes at the start of the semester. You have been VERY distracted with non-school-related things and have developed many unhealthy habits in the past several months. To make matters worse, you no longer have an inhumanly tough professor (*cough* Chua *cough*) to whip your procrastinating ass into shape. As the dust settles on the disaster that is academic career, how exactly do you plan to make it out alive?

End of exam (and your suffering). Happy sembreak!

I haven’t been dealing with stress very well. (I can feel everyone who has had to deal with my stress-induced bitching raise an eyebrow at the understatement.) It’s like I’m experiencing continual PMS (read: crankiness personified). I’ve been a bit short with most people, but I’ve been at my monstrous best at home. I know it’s totally unfair, but I may have been reserving the nasties for my mom because I know she’s the least likely to strangle her one and only daughter. I feel really guilty about it and I’ve been trying to keep my temper under control, but I keep failing. And it just seems completely lame to apologize when I know I won’t be able to stop myself from being snappish again, at least until this semester (i.e. the source of all stressful things) is over (and buried 10,000 feet into the ground where it will never ever bother me again).

I’m normally not the type of person who remembers past slights — I follow the rant-for-ten-minutes-then-forget philosophy — but the stress is making me remember old annoyances, too. Like just now as I was washing the dishes, I suddenly remembered the time a couple of years back when I had to wash a huge pile of dishes at 5 a.m. with a hangover waiting to happen. I had texted my parents that night that my friends and I had decided to have an impromptu drinking session (or alcoholic rampage as my friend Mei-Anne would call it) and would not be back till morning. Since they had replied and told me to have fun (my folks are very lenient), I had assumed that I wouldn’t have to worry about my dishwashing duties for the night. I had finally managed to get home a little past 4 a.m. and had been looking forward to sleeping the drunkenness away. But no! They had left all the dishes from lunch and dinner scattered on the kitchen counter, some still on the table. So there I had been, pending hangover and all, pissed as hell to be scrubbing dishes at dawn. Had I been naive to think that they would clean up because I had given them sufficient warning and because they hate it when the dishes are not washed right away?

But I digress. The point is, that was ages ago! What was my brain doing bringing that up now? Bad, stress! Bad! I need for this semester to be over, so everything can go back to being hunky-dory in Nikkiland. Then again, I can’t just turn into a monster every time things get tough. I have to find a healthier way to deal with the stress. Somehow, stress balls aren’t enough anymore.

An afterthought added several hours after my original post: I turned 22 last week. My life was in a much better place last year, I think. But I can’t really complain; it’s been a good life.