tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46352971287820523752012-02-16T17:36:44.513-08:00Empty Refrigeratorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12051691926591464516noreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4635297128782052375.post-83229674832582095362010-07-01T07:10:00.000-07:002010-07-01T07:10:17.997-07:00

I got glasses at age 7. My ophthalmologist was a little concerned about how bad my eyes were. Soon after getting my new glasses (green trees with individual leaves! Bright street signs! Incredible world!), I needed a new prescription; my eyes had gotten worse. Then they worsened again. "This needs to slow down," the adults around me muttered. It did slow down. I'm fine; I'm lucky. My glasses

Empty Refrigeratorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12051691926591464516noreply@blogger.com5