I only dropped 0.2 pounds but that’s good, considering I had 2 small bowls of chips last night when we got home from the eye doctor.  (I also had a really light meal.  Who knew a 1/2 cup of spaghetti squash was 25 calories?  It may be the perfect food!) 

Holy geez, no one warned me that an eye checkup could take 2 hours!  But the bottom line is, I’m getting reading glasses.  I can see the computer screen just fine, but when I try to read something in front of me, it takes some time for my eyes to adjust.  Small print is impossible to see.  My new glasses are really cute, too, so I’m almost looking forward to getting them. 

My brother decided to write his autobio on his blog, http://owlpete.blogspot.com/, and part of his plan was to write a chapter on the people in his life.  I was set to be chapter 3 until I destroyed his plans by confessing to all my transgressions against him.  (I poured Comet on his hair when he was a kid; I hid his D&D dice; and I told him that Dristan was chewable.  Hey, he asked me if you could chew it; sure, you can, but you probably won’t want to.)  That aside, he had to find nicer things to say about me.  It was pretty neat because like I told him, when we look in the mirror, more often than not we see our failures and flaws; we don’t see what the rest of the world sees in us until someone else comes out and tells us.  Personally, I still think I’m the least smart of the three Kempert siblings, but it’s still fun for all of us to watch Jeopardy together. 

John’s job is driving him insane, and when he gets frustrated enough, he dumps it on me.  Fortunately it’s all just words–if it were ever anything more than that, once I finished blackening his eye, I’d file papers–but sometimes words are worse because it’s hard to make them stop.  I think it’s part of why I had that throat spasm thing the other day, and after a while I want to say, “My life’s not fun either; suck it up and get on with it”, but men don’t want to hear that.  At least, none of the ones I’ve dated do.  They want a good, solid “poor baby” and whatever other kind words we can give them to assure their egos that they’ve been wronged.  Personally I’m losing patience with it.  If he hates his job so much, maybe he should’ve thought of that before he quit college; then he wouldn’t be stuck in a dead-end job with limited prospects.  But instead of furthering his education, he chased the dollar Kodak offered him and then swiped out from under him when they laid him off.  It’s called long-term planning, and he failed to do it.  I guess it’s normal, in a way.  At the time, no one envisioned big businesses downsizing en masse the way it’s common now.  We all thought the good life would go on forever. 

Welcome to reality.