For the last two years I wore glasses that I could hardly see out of. I could’ve replaced them. All it took was going to the optometrist for an eye exam and then I was eligible for new glasses. I didn’t. I couldn’t. Frankly, I didn’t care that I couldn’t see. It was the least of my worries. Everything was smudged. Scratched. Blurry. Then, I fell asleep in my glasses and broke them beyond repair and, mysteriously the triage of effort was no longer too much to think about and I did it. I got new glasses and I could see, again. The world wasn’t as dull and damaged as I came to believe. There was beauty in the grass.