I thought I was a tad rude yesterday.

Maybe I was a little harsh in my description of the waiting areas in the clinic? As I drove in I mulled this over in my mind. Was I wrong about the blandness of the waiting areas and the fire doors? I decided that I was being too harsh and indeed on arrival I found that in fact my memory was… er… correct.

I took a photograph while I waited.

I actually didn’t spend much time waiting. On arrival a very cheerful receptionist provided me with a face nappy which I put on out of politeness and promptly took off again because it steamed up my glasses so I couldn’t see. The girl looked a little startled but I told her not to worry. I pointed out that she had a mask on and was therefore protected against any lurgy I might be carrying and that if she had the lurgy that I was prepared to take the risk. She looked a little surprised at this logic and confessed she hadn’t thought of things that way.

So I was deposited in a waiting area [one of several identical blips in the side of the corridor].

Almost immediately a lovely brought me into her tiny windowless office – I should add that the only part of the enterprise that has a window of any description is the front door. She stuck my head in a machine that flashed little lights in my peripheral vision [for the uneducated – this is known as a Lateral Field Test]. It’s a very hard process as I always tend to doze off which is tricky as I’m supposed to be clicking a little clicker every time I see a light flash. I think I failed that one on my left eye because my mind wandered more.

Then I was ushered into another cubbyhole office by two more lovelies who poked things into my eyeballs. I passed that test with flying colours.

So I was sent home considerably lighter financially with the delightful news that I will have another visit to endure when the optometrist has had time to examine the results of my tests.

They must love me.

Or my money?