Not surprisingly, I did precisely nothing on my brakes today. Maybe tomorrow. Or not. I may get twitchy and enlist my friend's help again; I need to look at the process and see how daunting it is.
I'm all excited to try out buying glasses online. It normally takes me years to find a pair of frames I want, but part of the problem is the glasses are so damned expensive: for $400, I want to be sure of what I'm getting, so I go into Indecision Mode. But if the glasses were only $80 or less, I'd feel pretty free to experiment and take some chances on fit or quality. (I'm yuppie scum and $80 is within my "Hey, what the hell" budget.) I've been meaning to get some new glasses for years (surprise!), to get something that looks better on me...but I have issues with spending large amounts of money on things when I have current versions that seem to function okay. Even though I'm always really excited when I get the newer thing, because it turns out to be much closer to what I actually want.
Instead of working on my brakes, I went to a moving sale in SF that turned out to be canceled. Instead I had biscuits and gravy at Just For You (which lasted me until dinner), then went to the Alemany farmer's market and met up with an ex-girlfriend I haven't seen in nearly a year. It's a funny thing, when you and your ex get along. Because on a fundamental level we don't change much, the things that brought you together are probably still there: the look in her eyes, the sense of spirit, the strong hug, the way your hand feels on her head. And there's some feeling and memory of why it didn't work out. There's something strengthening about acknowledging the attraction without an urge for it to go anywhere. It's pleasant, and comfortable, and fun.