Today at the Stanford bike shop I was trying a new compact mirror for my glasses. I couldn’t figure out how to get them to work properly, so the guy (kid really) behind the sales counter offered to try. He promptly snapped and broke my sunglasses. He offered to glue it back together, which didn’t really work, so I duct-taped it, bought my mirror, and very bitterly left.

Tomorrow, the course of action I should take is: ______________________________________.

Bottom picture is Shipwrecks Beach on Kauai. Top picture? It’s a sink full of biodegradable foam. Many of the gifts we received came stuffed to the gills with this potato/corn starch derived packing peanut mix. It smells vaguely like stale potato chips. To dispose, we were advised to wet it and put it down the sink. The whole process was smelly and disturbing, but better than shredding reams of paper or plastic, I suppose.

I recently won a give-away sponsored by Curbly and UPrinting involving a large canvas. While rooting around for appropriate pictures, I found a whole set of pictures I took in D.C. before our wedding. I had completely forgotten about this time, possibly because the stress of that time completely sandblasted any concrete memories I had.

I found that these pictures seem to reflect more calm than what I remember. On the other hand, they have a sadness that was absent in my memories as well. At this point, I don’t know what to trust–the pictures or the fractured memories.

Okay, now tomatoes are 77c/lb at Safeway. That by itself may rescue this dismal week.

I think maybe I should start over. I can’t even begin to catalog the enormity of my failure at this processed food thing.