I ordered eggs and potatoes and the waitress said she'd be sure to ask the cook to not salt the potatoes and I realized my regular waitress, who doesn't work on Sundays, had spread the word. OK, I said, let's add a single pork chop and see what happens. We were feeling frisky and ready for another MSG experiment.

Home I was tired and a little spacey (precursors to something unpleasant?) so to bed to lie down for about an hour. None of the ocular symptoms, I know the little bastards even in their more nascent states, so maybe we're OK, maybe there was so much less MSG in the mix that it almost didn't matter, maybe, after less sleep last night, I was just tired. Anyway, up now at noon, feeling pretty good, but just up, we'll see if it's come together in another half hour.

Later. A bus to the Broadway ATM followed by a walk along Broadway to the City Hall and then on through the City Center, seeing a return bus was due in two minutes. Nothing open, of course, this being a Sunday, an overcast mist in the air as I was setting out Sunday, clearing when I arrived, a the bus then back to the morning restaurant for a tuna fish sandwich, ice cream and coffee out on their patio.

What to say? We're reasonably coherent, feel pretty good for an overcast Sunday afternoon, feel like doing more work on the computer and maybe firing up the guitar (but barely).

A band I was encouraged to see was scheduled to play earlier up Highway 80 above Berkeley, but I flaked out. Not an onerous trip, not all that far to travel, an easy enough highway drive, but starting after one, too soon after I'd gotten up from my nap after breakfast. So no pictures in hand of the band.

I did note from the morning paper that I'd missed the SantaCon held on Saturday. I usually attend when they congregate in front of the San Francisco City Hall, but missed it this year. You have to go online and search if you're going to see when they're scheduled and I need to construct a routine to better find these things, maybe go back to my last year's calendars and note when they were scheduled in the past to look for them as they come up in the future. Just sayin’, but it would indeed be nice if I did something about it.

Evening. An odd evening of futzing around with the computer, cleaning the mirror and mirror cabinet in the bathroom, playing a bit on the guitar, listening and occasionally watching the Italian police procedural at six (I'm not sure it's altogether important to read all of the subtitles to keep an idea of what's going on), I say “odd” in the sense of its diversity of tasks. Which is to say I goofed off, I guess, but actually in the process getting one or two productive things done.

To bed early. I'm not sure there wasn't something in that tuna fish sandwich, another way of saying I'm gun shy of most everything I eat these days. Not something I've had to pay attention to in the past.