One of those

Oh, I had a frustrating day yesterday.  I was back at the opticians for the fourth time having my expensive new glasses adjusted.  I know I'm fussy, but when you have something hanging off your face all day the tiniest little gouge or poke becomes wildly irritating.  The other problem is I'm vain, so I sometimes let myself be swayed by the girl at the store who I happen to really like.  If she tells me that those red frames "look so cute and brighten up my face," I respond, "I'll take them!"  Even if that style will probably feel like a lump of cement on the bridge of my nose.

John, on the other hand (not being much of a fashionista) buys the frames he likes in bulk, knowing the world changes and he will never find them again if he doesn't stock up.  That way he can just pull a fresh frame out of storage and have new lenses put in as the years go by. He will probably still be doing that when he's 85.

Then, on the way home from the optical shop, I noticed an extremely old lady creeping across the street at one of our murderous intersections in West Seattle.  The light was changing, she was in the middle, I asked if she needed help and she said: No! she did not.  That's fine, I intend to be just as cranky in 20 years. I'm working on it now.

Let's see, what else?  I hit the wall with ukulele practice, trying to read music and painfully turn the notes on the page into little plinks on my instrument. How many times do I have to tell my brain a line on the staff is the note D?  Who would guess that Oh, Susanna could sound so sad?    Well, Matt did say that it was like learning a foreign language, but with different rules. It doesn't help that all of these old "Ukulele Uncles" on the Internet are so good, and always harping how "anyone can play the ukulele."

One good thing happened yesterday.  My cruel digital scale (not my nice dial scale) says I finally lost the 5 pounds I gained after hurting my ankle in January. Another way that John is smarter than me: He never weighs himself.