Eye screwed it

Well, the good news is that my contact lens troubles didn't stop me from enjoying last night's work Christmas Party. The bad news is, it was awkward, vaguely surreal and deafening. I had this fear that all we'd do would be talk about work. Fortunately, we certainly dodged that bullet.

In situations where I'm forced together with unlikely combinations of people (and, as generally happens to me at parties, a woman substantially older ended up wrapped around me during a cover of 'teen spirit') I tend to rely on my sense of humour to bring people together and defuse the sometimes awkward tensions. However, within a second of the band starting up, it became apparent that this was going to become one of those "Here's my ear" moments. After shouting at people six inches away, I was forced to rely on a rudimentary form of Makaton (itself a rudimentary form of sign language), and was disappointed to find that most of my jokes really don't translate that well. So during what was supposed to a much-needed sociable occasion (I've only been in the office a year, but by all accounts it's been an exceptional one), I found myself retreating further into my own little world, contemplating my usual unanswerable questions.

Like this one: if I sleep in my contact lenses do I dream in focus?

Eventually, it became apparent that the sociable sitting-round-having-a-chat approach wasn't going to work. So my unlikely combination of people moved onto the dance floor. It's hard to really enjoy yourself when you're aware that one bit of inappropriate dancing could diminish an entire year's effort to be taken seriously. Then 'Teen Spirit' started up.

I don't know where I know her from. Either way, I'm probably going to find out on Monday.

And then I slept right through my contact lens check-up with the over-friendly optician. Dammit. I think.