I’m getting older, kicking and screaming every step of the way.

Lately, my drugstore reading glasses – the ones that have made life easier for protracted reading or computer work sessions – have become essential to any reading at all. My right eye is so much worse than my left that the reading glasses are a poor fix.

So, I headed off to my friendly neighborhood eye doctor for an exam. He congenially offered up the obvious, “Welcome to your forties.”

The recommendation? Bifocals. Darn it all! I’m getting progressive, no-line bifocals, but still… going from not wearing glasses routinely to regular wear bifocals will be a HUGE step.

Unfortunately, I am not a candidate for regular contact lens wear, since I have a intermittently recurring eye virus in my right eye.

It’s quite an sneaky strategy the optometrist has, though, to give me eye dilation drops, making me blurry as heck, and then send me out to look at frames. I couldn’t read price tags or even brand names, see textures, or tell subtle gradations of color – until I figured out that my reading glasses would accomplish exactly what I needed when looking at the frames. I could see details and read labels in my hand, NOT on my face.

In the end, it seems that both the devil and I will wear Prada – eyewear. I picked out some fairly attractive, very comfortable, sturdy plastic rectangular frames (pictured) in very dark, mossy green tortoiseshell that are a nice balance between conservative and professional, but still a little fun and trendy.

Because of the bifocal requirement, they won’t be ready until the end of next week. I am looking forward to trying them out – the difference in vision in the optometrist’s chair was amazing.

I still can’t believe it, though. I’m not old enough for bifocals.