Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Silly me.  I thought when I started wearing "progressives" a few years back that my eyesight would get progressively better.  Ha.  I read the directions wrong.  The opposite has occurred.  I can see distance and mid-range fine, more or less, but when I look down to read, I get a big blur.  This is not what I paid the big bucks for, to sort of see menus, books, maps and all those anonymous love notes I receive on a daily basis. "Oh yay," I say, as I dig into truckloads of fan mail.  It's a little embarrassing.  "Who loves me now?" I can't tell you who's loving me now because I can't read it.  Not until I remove my glasses and get "this close" to the print. "Dear SJG, your last blog made me laugh hysterically till I collapsed and had to be rushed to the hospital.  Here's the bill."   "Aw," I say, reaching for my checkbook.  The SJG will do anything to keep my  blog-reading peeps, my bleeps, happy.  Still, the eye people need to change the name of my eyewear to "semi-progressive."  Honestly, it's a more accurate description of the SJG.  In life, I tend to progress two steps, in a "wow, look me, conquering my sh*t, battling my demons, do I rock or what?" sort of way.  "Bragging again?  Take one giant step back," says the board game that controls my existence.  "Go back to square one."  So I go back and start over.  I wait my turn.  The next card may let me skip ahead, keep me right where I am, send me two steps forward, one step back.  I know this dance well.  It's the sort of cha cha I can do blindfolded.