I Can See Clearly Now...

Heartbroken wasn't a strong enough word to express how I felt that day at EyeMasters. The glasses I wanted were gone. I asked the sales associate (the only reason why I know the proper title is because I've worked many retail jobs) if there were any other pairs like the one I missed out on, and if she expected a new shipment of the same frames. Barely listening, she gave me a flat "Nope", and proceeded to show me another ugly, stupid, pair of glasses.
After checking out other EyeMasters in the area, I finally lost hope of ever buying these frames. They were perfect;although the style is fairly popular, I have a smaller face and the others looked way too big.

Months later I went back to the original EyeMasters, and there they were again. I hastily snatched them up, but, and here's the kicker, I snatched them up and continued to look around-- just to make sure there wasn't any other pair out there for me.

That's when I realized, what is wrong with me? I finally possessed the pair of glasses I had lamented over, for the past three months, and here I was looking for another pair.

What is this, this thing inside of human beings that makes us want more? There is a little voice inside of humans. So although we may have something that makes us happy, instead of just enjoying it, the voice says, "Hey, this is great and all, but wouldn't it be better if we just added this..." This beast is why happy lovers go astray, why weed is a gateway drug, and why we have oreo cakesters. An oreo is a perfectly adequate cookie, but the voice told the makers at Nabisco, to just add this. For now, I'm going to call it One Up Syndrome. I didn't see a better pair of glasses for me, and I'm glad.