Earlier this year, I picked up new glasses. I was due for a slightly stronger prescription, and I was tired of seeing the world through scratches.
But within two days, I had begun seeing double at certain distances. Convinced that something was wrong with the prescription, I returned to the ophthalmologist. In an uncharacteristic show of foresight, I brought along my old glasses. Guess what. I saw double through them, too. Which meant that the new prescription wasn’t the problem.
If you think the odds were slim that I’d start seeing double for an unrelated reason at exactly the same time I happened to pick up new glasses, you’re right. But here’s the thing about odds. Even when you calculate them at a million-to-one against, you’re not declaring an impossibility. You’re declaring a likelihood—about once for every one million tries.
A lot of people will have eye problems. A lot of people will buy glasses. Sooner or later and probably more often than one might think, those circles will overlap. Sooner or later albeit less frequently, they will overlap with your circle of acquaintances. And it can make the perfectly ordinary look extraordinary.
Never mistake the statistically unlikely for the miraculous.
I’m fine, thank you very much. A new lens did the trick.
... where I share thoughts about writing. I don’t consider myself a writing authority, but that doesn’t keep me from presuming to blog like one. Oh, and I reserve the right to digress when I feel like it.