Sometimes everything works well. I had my yearly appointment with my ophthalmologist this morning. Recently, he moved his office to a nearby suburb; not far, but not convenient by bus. I spent a lot of time worrying about how to get there and looking at bus schedules. If I drive, how do I get back with my eyes dilated? It takes several hours for my pupils to recover, all that great stuff. And I had a class I wanted to get to this afternoon.

I finally decided to drive. It was one of those nice, gray Pittsburgh mornings. I figured that with dark sunglasses I might be OK. I got to the appointment with no trouble, the doctor saw me promptly (a miracle), told me everything was good and did not need to dilate my eyes.
I drove home in time to have lunch and went to take the bus to my class. Then, really good, one of my neighbors drove by and gave me a ride.

This was my last Tuesday Japanese Art class. Next week I will give a presentation about contemporary representations of death at Hiroshima. In two weeks, I have to turn in my paper (same subject). I’ve begun writing, so it shouldn’t be too agonizing.