This post is part of our Non Sequitur Fridays series, which will feature a different Wistian's take on a non-Wistia-related topic each week. It's like our "employee of the month" but less "of the month"-y. Meryl Ayres is a writer at Wistia. Her last Non Sequitur was about a waking gene.
For this Non Sequitur, we decided to go with a group approach. This particular group is Wistian employees who wear glasses, and it turns out there are a lot of us—even more than those included in this post!
Without further ado, I give you the glasses of Wistia, named by their owners:
I’ve always had a hunch that the disparity between the strength of my two eyes was significant. Well, It turns out that my left eye is a champion. It’s been compensating for my good-for-nothing right eye for years now. The last time I had my eyes checked, the optometrist told me that she was surprised I didn’t have a lazy eye. Who knew?
In third grade, we were learning how to write in cursive. One day, the teacher was showing how to write an uppercase Q. I looked up to follow along, and realized I couldn’t see a thing! The end of my cursive learning forever? Nah, just time to get glasses.
I don’t remember what it’s like to not need or constantly wear glasses. For most of my life, I’ve worn cheapo, lame glasses. No more! Theodore was my first set of glasses that I didn’t really cheap out on, and it was such a great decision. After twenty-plus years of lame specs, I’m finally stoked about my frames!
I didn't know I was near-sighted until an optometrist appointment a few months ago. It was a checkup, my first in years. I just always assumed driving at night was terrifying for everyone, and things like tree branches were just fuzzy from far away.
The first time I put on my glasses I felt a little like I took that pill from that movie Limitless—you're telling me this is what the world looked like all along?!
It was a Tuesday night, a few years after I graduated college. I was in a Home Depot and in a big rush. I needed to find a plumbing fixture, but I had no idea where the plumbing aisle was.
As I stared down toward the garden department, it hit me like a ton of bricks: I couldn’t read past the second sign (and those were big signs with big letters!). I needed glasses.
I always hated visiting the optometrist as a kid. The crazy machines, the way they get super close to your face, and the glaucoma test—that awful puff of air right into your eyeball. Oh sorry, you blinked, gotta do it again! After 20 years, the technology has changed a bit, but it’s… still awful. But I’m always thankful for my corrected vision!
In junior high and high school, I always secretly wanted glasses, simply because I was infatuated with cultural icons who wore insane frames. Seemed to me like poor vision always lead to artistic and intellectual virtue. Lo and behold, glasses became a requirement during senior year, and I opted for some dorky-slash-totally-rebellious Ray Bans.
I got glasses for the first time my sophomore year of high school… and didn't see an optometrist again until sophomore year of college, when I got contacts. Up until last year, my backup glasses were the same pair I'd bought from Zenni Optical in the beginning.
It felt like a rite of passage (or perhaps a vision quest?) into adulthood last year when I finally replaced those glasses with a new pair from Warby Parker.
Do you wear glasses? What would you name them? Tell us your glasses story!