Scene: My yearly trip to the eye doctor this morning at 8:45.
Eye Doctor: Yes, I have to dilate your eyes. Otherwise I can't shine glaringly uncomfortable lights into them that will make them water uncontrollably. If I don't do this, then the stock we own in Kleenex will dip down and we won't have the money to buy all this fancy equipment that ultimately just results in me saying "option 1 or option 2? Is it option 3, or 4?"
But don't worry, they will undilate in 2 hours, 3 at the absolute outside. You will be perfectly safe to drive, but just allow for "plenty of time to get anywhere." We certainly don't want you to be unsafe.
5 minutes later, I am driving down the road at granny speed, sunglasses glued to my eyes and eyes almost shut against the September sun, which seems to be reflecting even more intensely than usual. Somehow I made it home, accident-free, and went to find the darkest room in the house possible. With my sunglasses on.
3.5 hours later, my pupils are still the size of dinner plates and reading is still a struggle. Good thing my livelihood doesn't depend on it. O wait...
On a happier note, I have now made it in and out of 3 types of doctors for yearly check ups. I think that this almost qualifies me as an adult.
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