Wednesday. Lights out last night to awaken at a quarter to six after a good night's rest. Mostly, anyway. I'd guess.

OK, up to take the blood pressure (113/68 - good) and get ready to set out for breakfast dressed to the teeth against the cold, the sky only half overcast. Arrived to find the restaurant open and so settled in with the papers and ordered the single pork chop, scrambled eggs, country potatoes (sometimes called home fries), toast, fruit cup and coffee, feeling reasonably clear headed. Yesterday, Christmas Day, I'd been completely fogged out and tired, probably more a reaction to spending a solitary Christmas Day than otherwise, although I still thought the attitude was reasonably good.

Finished up just before nine to set out for home, not many pedestrians and cars on the sidewalks and roads, guessing many people were taking the day off, and so a somewhat different set of pictures, a graffiti artist or artists having started a not very clever piece on the wall of the parking lot at Euclid and Grand.

Home to take the selfie and settle in here, post the unfinished Christmas Eve entry and now think about checking to see if the downtown Oakland Site For Sore Eyes store has reopened in their new space. I still want to try a set of glasses with the new prescription, see if they make a real difference.

Later. A bus to Site For Sore Eyes at its new location to discover either I don't remember what glasses cost back when I'd last bought them or the prices have gone up. A lot. Maybe by twice. But then again, maybe the memory isn't all that accurate. Still, ordered two pair: one for reading, one for driving. I tell myself I'm seeing distances just fine when driving, much less so while walking, but we'll find out in a week or so when they arrive.

A walk back up Broadway to Grand, passing by the building they're close to finishing sitting across from my old company's building at the corner of twelfth and Broadway, on by one of the projects that has the bus route screwed up with detours and then to the Broadway ATM to discover the bus I take home, at least the earlier one, had been hit by a car at the stop at 20th. On then to Grand and Webster and then a bus home after a quick walk by the construction site just up my street, now done for the day unless we go out again on a comfortable looking sunny afternoon.

Later still. Today's mail included a card from the Registrar of Voters that required mailing a return card and it gave me an excuse to walk to the post office and drop it in the box and so that's what I did. Good. Just got up and headed out the door, no attempt to argue myself out of it, the complete opposite of yesterday's head state.

Evening. Watched the first hour of the Vera episode that started at eight, but bailed without learning how it ended. Murder? An accident? Suicide? Tired but it was nine and we don't want to get in the habit of not getting to bed (and one hopes to sleep) any later than nine-thirty. So that's what I did.

Why the need for excuses? You went to bed. Big deal.

Yeah, but how many of these “seen before” episodes can I say that I remember its resolution? One? None?