(June, 1998)

I have a habit.

Twice a day, I go into a bathroom behind closed doors, wash my hands, roll up my sleeves and attend to my habit. I perform the same set of specific hand and arm motions every time. I put a transparent foreign substance into my body in a manner that the average person would probably shy away from.

My habit costs me a substantial amount of money and some extra effort, but I prefer that to living without. It improves my perspective and makes me feel better about myself. When I have to go without it, I feel much less confident and have a lower self-image.

Often, I carry my paraphernalia around with me during the day, just in case. I can only go a certain number of hours before having to return to the bathroom again. If I let it go too long, the inevitable result is discomfort, pain, and distraction. Eventually, the only thing I can think about is taking care of my habit.

So, what is my habit? Am I a drug addict? No...

...I wear contact lenses.

PART TWO