Count yesterday as a success; thank you partner

I think I'm going to go out on a limb and count yesterday as a success:

* I woke up earlyish and did some coding. The game displays objects in several states (eg. door open, door closed, etc) and has actions which display/depend on them. (Not quite compiling yet...)

* I had a sandwich, for breakfast, some soup for lunch, and ravioli for dinner, just like people with a normal sleep/food schedule

* I got a regression test checked in to version control at work

* I went to the Carlton, collected some nice people, and buttonholed some friends I wanted to see, being, I hope, my usual happy personable self. Maybe it's split persona, but if half of me is happy, friendly, and gregarious, I'm not going to try to suppress it.

* I found some bridge players, and that went very well. We were dealt some good cards, and made and bid some major games and small slams. Not on the same hands, unfortunately, but I felt we bid and played to the limits of our system, and were in the right place and on top of what was going on even if we didn't get everything right.

* I came home, watched a little B5, and had a sensible early night found the worst compromise between getting code to compile completely and getting enough sleep :) But you can't have everything.

Call this year a success

In fact, this year has been quite good. There's no sparkling successes as I might hope for, but several good things and surges in sustained improvements.

I'll look back over it in more detail later, but I'm very pleased to have done:

* Some maths! I want to pick this up again, with the next worksheet, about analysis.

* Some swimming! I went regularly for a lot of the summer. I need to find an indoor pool now...

* Lots of organisation! Not everything, but I've developed lots of good habits and done lots of necessary things.

This month I've cautiously admitted to a slight tendency to go to places not cutting it too fine. I don't know if this is real, or would last, but I'm very proud :)

Opticians

I got into town this morning for an eye test and I have a new prescription. As I was coming out I was hungry and I got some food from boots for breakfast, and was all set to sit on a bench in the rain reading and eating before going, when I met Jacob and sat talking matho with him, eating, in the rain instead.

(I'm stubborn, ok? I should probably break the habit, but it's only raining a little, so I'm going to do what I want and damn the weather :))

Amongst other things, he asked if I knew if there was a Millets shop, and I said I was fairly sure they had been the second-least unhelpful shop last year when I'd hunted for a camping stool. Over *there* if I remember correctly.

Wandering around seems like the wrong game, had he tried google. Was it in the Grafton Centre? He didn't think so -- he'd seen it about and he rarely went out there.

I tried google on my phone, and it found millets in cherry hinton, and in ely, but not the one in town. (The interface is a little limiting.)

At this point, a nagging feeling came to the fore, and I pointed back, and asked "Can you read what it says on that green sign?"

He groaned in success. I said, "I *said* I needed new glasses."

Heffer's Art

On the way back I went to Heffer's Arts. That was very nice, it had the feeling of coming home that other specialist shops and libraries often have.

Everything has little pads of paper you can try a pen on. I'm glad to see I wasn't just imagining that custom -- I remember buying a pen somewhere like Smiths once, and being looked at as if I was insane when I asked if I could see it write. Always or never doing so makes sense, but at least it wasn't only in my head.

It's also useful the other way round. I'm sure you remember my classic anecdote of looking for seating objects for the Veizla, going into a shop and saying:

Me: Hi! Excuse me, do you have about thirty, all about this big, each a different design?
Them: Have about thirty what?
Me: Yes, exactly.

Here it's a lot easier. Just, "Excuse me," point to a clef drawn on the pad, "I want one that draws like that."

In fact, many of the doodles were very nicely done, I feel out of place :)

In the end, I got a calligraphic marker, which I think does what I wanted, though I find something else would be more appropriate later. I considred brush pens, and they're definitely a superior product for drawing overall, but a little delicate and wet for my feeling right now. I almost looked for some colours too, but decided I didn't want to go overboard, I could barely draw proportions, I don't know if I want to venture into the murky waters of shading :)

The shoe on the other foot

There are many situations where it's thought a little odd to whip out a book. As a teenager when I was even more stubborn about socialisation than now, I explored many of these :)

Walking along, waiting in a queue, at your desk at work, and many other places there are at least some reasons against reading. I often do anyway, but I'm used to puzzling people (or walking head-first into Matt R. :))

On the other hand, in a waiting room (doctor, optometrist, platform, etc), I think it's seen as a little odd not to. At least, most people don't, but the vibe I get from people in a room where one person's reading and the rest are waiting, is "damn, why is there only one organised person?"[1]

Of course, I have an unfair advantage as I will already have a book started, and only have to bring it, not actually *find* one.

I guess this is what people mean by "a cheap paperback", except that we (a) buy standard paperbacks by default (b) don't equate a paperback with a cheap story, and (c) tend to live off the things.

[1] Maybe I should take along spare books to hand out to fellow sufferers? Except if they're good, they'll want to keep them, but so will I, and if not, I'll feel guilty :)