I am an Eyeball

Gregor Samsa turned into a cockroach. Gogol had both a nose and an overcoat running around unchaperoned in his city. At the moment RantWoman is an eyeball.

True, RantWoman feels less like a set of limbs and nostrils and other body parts in service of an eyeball than she did over the weekend, but RantWoman is an eyeball. RantWoman will spare her readers all the details of how she arrived at this limbs in service to a sore eyeball state. It's not that RantWoman feels there is anything shameful in her state, but more than one person who got the torturous details proclaimed them Too Much Information--and these poor souls were not even present for the crux of the matter.

Here one must picture an eyeball, a nice blue-eyed eyeball fetched from some image archive and cropped to show only the eyeball including the white of the eye. Then one is allowed to add Powerpoint effects, a couple different fly in and roll around and wobble effects with an extra sound effect thrown in too because if Powerpoint allows one to do it, it must always be entirely reasonable to do. Alas, the Powerpoint masterpiece that allowed RantWoman to do this got lost last fall in a computer calamity and RantWoman is too busy being an eyeball to interact with the thought that her hard disk probably needs housekeeping to prevent more such calamities--or that RantWoman should immediately seek employment in some Large Organization where there are kindly though occasionally temperamental gnomes about whose job it is to tend to people's hard drives.

Here imbed the rolling, wobbling, backflipping eyeball in one's head. Add a second with separate wobbles and wiggles, each with its own regimen of needed ministrations and its own combination of pickling or preservative solutions, on divergent schedules so that at certain times of the day RantWoman must add numerous questions about which drops have been had how long ago to all the other things demanding space in RantWoman's mind.

Understand, RantWoman's normal level of visual experience is basically a wholesome alternative to mind-altering substances to begin with, with all sorts of erratic and unpredictable peculiarities of focus, visual field, and fractal counts of given items in her gaze, subject also to arbitrary interactions with outdoor light conditions, weather, traffic, large objects such as the mayor or Mack trucks, and an extra randomness term just for good measure.

Once RantWoman was seeing a new doctor and the doctor was waving her hand a certain way in front of RantWoman's face. RantWoman asked why the doctor was doing that and the doctor said she was trying to decide whether RantWoman's eyes track together. They don't. Next question. It took RantWoman until high school to realize that while most people have to drink a lot of alcohol to see double, RantWoman got the bonus package--with bifocals, so that depending on what needs to be seen, Rant Woman may on a normal day see between 0 and about 5 occurrences of said object, and sometimes several different counts in short succession.

RantWoman is unsure why the latest eye experience appears to have substantially elevated RantWoman's average daily level of visual randomness. One little floaty thing RantWoman has had for years in the affected eye has decided to become even more energetic. RantWoman's eyes seem to think she needs intermittent washes of yellow and occasional clouds. RantWoman's eye has been well and regularly inspected by her medical practitioner who seems pleased about progress; this only adds to the puzzle. Unfortunately in trying to tell this story , RantWoman has detected some technical anomalies related to her accessibility software and its interactions with her browser, so RantWoman is going to post and then take her backflipping eyeballs off to sleep where hopefully they will be able to restrain from further folly at least until morning.