b r e a t h i n g
r o o m
18 July 98
Checked in to see if UPS has tried to deliver my new hard drive yet, even though there's no reason to think they'd deliver it on Saturday, anyway. I guess I checked just because the technician at Gateway who's going to walk me through the installation (to replace my dead hard drive) is in the office from Thursday to Sunday only. So, on Monday, when it arrives (or Tuesday, if they come perversely before I get to the office, recovering as I will be from a Phish concert in Mountain View the night before), do I try to install it myself, or wait till Thursday to talk to my contact there?
Next it's off to Kaiser to refill my Azmacort prescription, which ran out almost a week ago. I'm a fool to let my allergy medicines run out, I tell you. Then I'll stop down the street at Site for Sore Eyes to see about replacing my glasses. I broke them at High Sierra and have been wearing my uncomfortable astigmatism-incorrecting old circular-lens John Lennon style gold wire rims. I haven't worn them in years and not only do they make my peripheral vision all gooshy, but they make me in the mirror look like I've gone back in time, fashionwise. Not even sure what my next glasses will look like. The trend seems to be for the lenses to get smaller and smaller, more like lozenges, and I long ago decided against the fade-to-invisible style. Glasses are part of my appearance and have been since I was seven. They are part of my face as icon. Elvis Costello taught me that, wearing oversized horn rims at the Greek theatre so that even from the top seats in the back, he'd still appear as that familiar four-eyed Buddy Hollyeseque fellow.
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